


Beneath the Ivy Walls

by Suileye



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Language, Minor Character Death, Poorly done Jokes, Violence, and more will appear in the next chapters, spirit possession
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-06
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-30 10:17:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5160071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suileye/pseuds/Suileye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As part of Jean's inheritance, he gains the deed to his aunt's cottage in Rosa Sina.  Planning to only stay as long as he feels his aunt would wish, Jean works to keep his aunt's conservatory.  With it, he meets Marco, an owner to a herbal healing and plant shop, who holds ties to darker parts of Rose Sina than his bright smile shows.  Jean also meets Eren, a loud spoken fighter whose ties to Rose SIna are also more than he appears.  The longer he stays in this ivy covered town, the harder it seems for Jean to be able to return to his safe life in Trost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lavender

**Author's Note:**

> This first part mainly describes Jean's first night in Rose Sina. He is still not aware of what his aunt has brought him into.

  As Jean stared at the little cottage that seemed more ivy than brick, he felt a hard lump form in his throat. He just couldn’t make himself turn the copper key and enter this house.  He couldn’t face what he knew he was going to go miss.  He was going to enter that house and not be enveloped by a great hug by his favorite person in the world.

He still wasn’t ready to accept it.  He knew something was wrong when he came home that evening after an appointment out of town. It was around the time of the year when his aunt would come visit him and his mom and catch up.  His mom had planted lavenders and had been planning to make her sister’s favorites all week.  However, Jean did not come home to the awkward scent of combined pesto and lavender.  He just stopped and stared at his mom curling over a tear stained letter and his father just staring at him with eyes that showed that the worst had happened.  Jean felt numb as his father led him to a chair, and his mom grabbed his hand before telling him. 

 His auntie Amelia was dead.  The one person who made his favorite memories.  The one person who always supported his art, even though he went for engineering to make his parents proud.  The one person he came out to as bisexual and who just smiled and claimed that’s why he sang N Sync from kindergarten until his punk stage.  The one who always made the week before month school and college worth it.

He just couldn’t admit that she was gone.  He couldn’t as they waited to get news from the estate lawyers about his aunt’s will. He couldn’t when his mom asked him what she wanted him to do to remember her by.  He couldn’t when his mom gave him the plane ticket to collect his inheritance.  He couldn’t as he stepped out the plane into Maria.  He couldn’t even when the people gave him the key and deed to his aunt’s cottage.  He couldn’t as the taxi took him to the maroon roads of Rose Sina. But now Jean had to face reality as he finally twisted the key.  Opening the door, Jean smiled as the faint smell of lavender greet him.  The house still looked like it did back when he visited as a child, albeit a little dustier.  Jean dropped his bags down with a solid thud, knocking against one of the lavender pots by the doorway.  Jean moved to right it and notice it was noticeably cleaner than the rest of the place.  Someone must have taken care of them while they waited for Jean to claim the deed.

Jean walked over to the shelves filled with trinkets from his aunt’s past adventures.  When she was not sending mom little cups, she was buying little pots to plant new seeds in.  Jean smiled as he saw the little ceramic shoe he and his aunt first planted watermelon seed in. Little ten-year-old Jean was so sure that they would make mini melons if they used a tiny pot.  Right beside the shelves were frame after frame of different memories.  There were photos of Auntie Amelia and Jean’s mom as kids, her teasing Jean’s dad at his wedding, and plenty of ones with her and Jean. Embarrassingly enough, amongst the different frames were various pictures Jean has drawn through the years.  He had forgotten about the charcoal picture of his dream girl at age 12 and the crayon picture of him singing “Bye Bye Bye” with NSync at age 5.  He never wanted anyone to see these, but he didn’t have the heart to take them down just yet. 

  As Jean cringed at his artistic past, he felt a soft bump on his leg.  Looking downing, he saw Andre, his aunt’s old cat rubbing against his shins.  Jean quickly picked him and held him against his chest.  “Oh hey buddy, you have no idea how happy I am to see you.” 

  Jean remembered getting him and his brother Inigo back during his freshmen year summer.  Inigo is unfortunately keeping mom safe at home, so Jean was extremely grateful that Andre was still waiting for him here. This house was too small and memorable to stay here alone. Holding Andre on one shoulder and slinging one bag over the other, Jean decided it was about time to check out his bedroom for the next few months. 

 The stairway and upstairs hallway was still as creepy as Jean remembered.  No number of smiling Aunts and baby Jeans can shake the poor lighting placements and constant shadows.  Jean opened the bedroom door, only to see someone staring straight at him.  Jolting back, Jean then sees it’s just the mirror to the armoire.  The dark cherry wood curled around the mirror, framing the image of Jean’s stress ridden face perfectly. 

  Jean walked over to the bed and placed Andre and his bag down.  Returning to the armoire, Jean glided his fingers over the dusty top.  More memories of him as a child visiting here flooded through.  He slowly picked up the little wooden Jewelry box that he used to root through constantly.  He loved seeing all of the necklaces and earrings she had.  He even tried to thrust one pearl earring through his earlobe before his Aunt caught him.  She just laughed and told him that maybe he should ask before putting extra holes in him.  He wondered how little Jean would approve of the several ear piercings he had now.

  Placing the jewelry box back gently, he caught sight of something yellow.  Reaching for it, he clasped around a little letter with Jean sprawled on the front in his aunt’s cramped cursive writing.  He stared at it for a little while, before finally moving to sit on the bed and opening it.

“My Dearest Jeannie,

        If you are reading this, then my love of whiskey and herbal remedies must have finally caught up with me.  I do not regret any of my decisions.  I knew what I was getting into, but sometimes life’s greatest adventures have the greatest risks.  I hope you are still being the artistic soul I have always loved.  You have so much potential in you.  Don’t be afraid to let it out.  You will be surprised in what inspiration there is in Rose Sina.  It is a place where you discover your true self, no matter what shadows your past has made for you.  These roads have a way of sending you where you need to go.  You may not believe me, but I have a feeling that you are going to make a big change here, my lovely boy.  Even if it is just with one or two people. 

  As I leave this place, let me give you a few pieces of wisdom.  Always follow where the ivy grows. Keep lavender by each doorway.  Never let Andre near the plants on the Livingroom windowsill, or else have an incessant supply of socks.  Andre may act like a grumpy old man, but you will never meet a better judge of character in life. I know this town will hold so many wonders for you to discover.  You just have to trust it and yourself.  You are so special, Jeannie boy. Never forget that.

Always watching over you,

Auntie Amelia”

  Jean read the letter a few more times, pausing at the artistic and special.  It has been a lot time, since Jean has felt like either of those.  The most artistic things he has done is his mother’s and his tattoos in memory of his aunt.  They were a collection of her favorite flowers, many from the fields were mom and her grew up.  They spread along Jean’s left arm, contrasting with the robotic pieces he designed on his right arm.  They weren’t his first tattoos.  Sasha and Connie had somehow convinced him to get matching triforces on their right wrists. They claimed it could be their graduation presents to themselves and he fucking bought it.  The next one was actually a tattoo his aunt designed.  It was a vast array of ivy that cascaded off his shoulders and to the middle of his back.  She brought him to some artist she knew for his twenty first birthday, but Jean passed out after the initial outlining.  Despite his love for tattoos, he had trouble making it through the whole process.

  Finally placing the letter against the mirror, Jean went to remove his quilt from his bag.  His mother had used bits of fabric from his childhood to make this horrendous thing.  It will never match any décor scheme, but Jean could never seem to sleep without it.  Throwing it over, it seemed to fit the bed perfectly when Andre was shuffling under it. Jean flipped the pillows over and jolted when something flopped towards him.  It looked like a weird charm packet, so like any normal human being, he picked it up and sniffed it.  Then, he proceeded to have a sneezing fit.  Yep. Definitely one of his aunt’s charm packets that always had a bunch of spices in it.  Why would you sleep better with a curry smelling pillow was beyond Jean.  Jean tossed it to the wicker basket in the corner. 

 Moving along, he assessed the outlet situation of the room, deciding whether he needs to rewire anything.  Satisfied, he moved on to cleaning the rest of the house.  The bathroom took some needed bleaching, although thankfully there was no discovered mold.  The storage room would have to be attacked at a later time, but he did manage to find a few photo albums to send home to his mom. She would probably enjoy photos of their ice cream stained smiles than he would.  As he finished cleaning the kitchen, he decided it would probably prove useless.  Dirt would be constantly tracked in, since the kitchen doorway lead into the conservatory. 

  Walking along the different rows of plants, Jean recognized a few of them, like the Angelica flower and cumin.  To be fair, there was at least twenty pots of different shapes and sizes filling up the room.  Andre wandered around the different sized pots before leaping to the dirt covered desk across from the doorway.  He gently pawed at one of the leather bound books, sniffing along the yellowing pages.  Jean picked him up to rest on his shoulder before deciding to grab the book as well to read later.

 As the night settled in, Jean finished fiddling with the shoddy internet connection.  It was one thing to delay organizing the storage closets, but he knew the dangers of not skyping his mother in the next week.  Plus, Sasha and Connie will be wanting news on when he’ll be back in Trost as soon as possible.  At least Andre seemed calmed.  He was comfortably snoozing behind Jean’s laptop.  Closing his laptop, Jean flipped open the book he took from the conservatory.

  It turns out that the books in his aunt’s conservatory were actually her botany journals.  They were filled with notes and examples of the different plants his aunt was grown over the years.  They even had a few crushed leaves in between the pages.  As he flipped though the different illustrations, he saw a lot of little remarks of some man named Marco in his aunt’s cramped cursive writing.  Apparently he was a botanist like her, and this old geezer really got on her nerves sometimes if her colorful names for him meant anything.  It didn’t help that he didn’t see the benefits of lavender and cumin like she did.  Jean just chuckled.  He should have known better. They were practically her iconic scent after all. 

 Andre hears something and starts grumbling.  Jean looks at the doorway and notices one of the lavender plants fell over.  Removing a grumbling cat off his lap, Jean went to right the pot up.  Getting a closer look, he saw that the flower had started to wilt at the edges. Strange, they had looked just fine when he first got there.  Turning his head, he saw that the other lavender plant was in the same shape.  I wondered if whoever had been changing the pots planted some weak plants or Jean used too much cleaner around them.

  “Can plants even get sick from Windex? Maybe Auntie has a journal on plant safe chemicals.” Jean mumbled to himself.  He stood up to open the door and air out the room, but Andre was having none of it.  Andre was wailing at Jean every time he put his hand on the doorknob.  Jean decided it was probably better to take Andre into the other room and to deal with the lavender pots in the morning.  He needed to do some food and necessities shopping anyway. 

  Andre grumbled contently as Jean carried him to the bedroom before getting ready for bed.  This day was exhausting for him.  He could use some actual sleep somewhere that wasn’t a car or plane seat.  Walking out of the bathroom, Jean felt a slight chill go through him.  The dark hallway to the stairs was almost too dark for his liking.  He ever so calmly ran to the bedroom like a man, not a scared toddler.  Shutting the door, he heard Andre grumble at him as he curled up on Jean’s pillow.  At least he calmed down.  Curling up in his old quilt, Jean inhaled the scent of home mixed in with lavender spices. He slowly fell to a deep sleep, with the calming sound of Andre’s soft breathing in his ear.


	2. Cumin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the lovely comments on the first chapter. I drew up a few sketches of [Jean's tattoos](http://suileye.tumblr.com/post/133067701467/tattoo-ref-for-jean-in-my-beneath-the-ivy-walls). I'll be posting more drawings of these nerds later on, but let's start off with the next chapter.

               Jean woke up to a wet nose in his ear.  Apparently, Andre was ready for breakfast and whatever had riled him up was gone now.  Jean tried to pull the quilt over his head, but quickly gave up after Andre began digging at his hidden face.  Be best to just see what he could actually find in the kitchen.  Shrugging off his covers and throwing them over Andre, Jean escaped to the bathroom to brush his teeth.  With Andre pawing at his pajama bottoms, he stumbled down the stairs into the kitchen. 

               The cupboards were barren, save a few jars of spices.  Jean scurried around the kitchen, until he finally found some bagged food in a small decorative pot.  Snagging two dishes, Jean emptied out the bag’s contents in one and filled the other up with water.  Andre happily grumbled at his food, tapping Jean’s hands as he set the dishes down.  Jean finished off his snacks from the travel to Rose Sina.  Certainly wasn’t breakfast, but his mother wasn’t there to judge him.

               As he waited for Andre to finish up, Jean made a short list of what he needed at the market.  He had a lot of cupboard space, but little refrigerator space.  It looks like he is going to have to think fresher than he used to.  He refused to go back to his ramen and coffee diet from his college days.  Luckily, his mom taught him a few things. He should be able to get everything he needs from the food market.  If not, he could easily ask Sasha to send him a box of goodies and recipes. He would just have to send her back some Rose Sina classics in return.

               Jean kept checking his list, habitually nibbling on the pencil eraser, until he found himself stumbling into the conservatory.  The house naturally led to it.  Although, it probably looked much nicer when his Aunt was taking care of it.  Jean gently lifted up the leaves to the amaranth plant.  It seemed alright, but it didn’t look like it was being moved around much.  The lavender pots at the doorways at least showed dust circles.  Whoever took care of Andre must have taken care of the lavender as well.  But the conservatory was looking grim. 

               Jean stared at the different plants.  He remembered seeing how peaceful his aunt looked as he helped her deadhead the flowers around his mom’s house.  She really loved botany and everything that came with it.  Keeping this conservatory up could be a therapeutic way to remember her.  Picking up another one of his Aunt’s journal, Jean began to identify some of the worse for wear plants. By the time he was done, Andre was done eating and wafting through the conservatory with him.  Petting him for a little bit, Jean grabbed both his lists and ran upstairs to change. 

               Making sure his Trost University sweatshirt covered his memorial tattoo since it was still pretty new, Jean tucked in his undershirt into his jeans. He pulled up his boots and tucked in the laces to avoid any temptation for Andre to trip him. He made his way back to the house door before hearing an angry meow behind him.  Looking over his shoulder, Jean witnessed Andre dragging a raggedy bag like the one Jean had seen Sasha stash like ten sandwiches in before. 

               “Oh no, Andre. I am not carrying you and groceries around Rose Sina. You can handle protecting the house for a few hours.” Andre responded with pawing at the bag and snorting at Jean.  Jean then proceeded to have a ten-minute argument with a cat.  And if the cat could talk, he apparently made some convincing arguments as Jean found himself walking down the streets of Rose Sina with a purr vibrating victoriously from his left side. 

               Rose Sina was actually a pretty beautiful place.  Most of the buildings were made out of different shades of maroon colored bricks.  Each building had character and an intricate design from the ivy vines cascading down them. This whole town had a rustic aura around it.  Jean wandered down the curved roads, waving to the wandering townsfolk.  The rush of the city was definitely not here.

               Despite the easy going flow, Jean couldn’t seem to find the right path to the farmer’s market.  He probably should have actually talked to someone instead of just waving. As he continued to walk down the roads, he noticed that he hadn’t actually seen anyone new walking on this road with him.  It was just him, Andre, and the houses towering around him.  Speaking of Andre, Jean felt him stirring in the bag until he jumped out of the bag and ran into one of the dark alleyways.

               “Andre come back here!”   Jean ran after him.  Where was he going?  Jean followed him down before Andre suddenly stopped and crouched down against the wall.  Jean slowly reached a hand out to him.

               “Hey buddy. It’s alrigh..” but Jean stopped as he heard Andre growling and the chill returned. It started at his fingertips and rushed over him like a wave of freezing ocean water.  Jean braced himself against the ivy covered wall, attempting to peer out to the road.  Andre crawled up into his lap, but his soft growling continued. He seemed to be protecting Jean’s chest for some reason.  Jean tried to control his quickened breathing, holding down Andre with his right hand and running his left hand along the ivy.  The ivy curled under his touch, as if it was trying to pull him under its protective vines. 

               Trying to hush Andre, Jean felt the chill grow stronger like someone was approaching them. He pushed against the wall, wanting to actually hide underneath the ivy.  He did not know what was coming, and he didn’t want to find out.  His nerves picked up as Andre quieted down and just froze in Jean’s lap.  Shutting his eyes, Jean felt the chill grow stronger.  The cold wave flowed back and forth before stopped right next to where Jean was crouched.  He could have sworn he felt something’s breath by his neck, but he just gripped Andre tighter.  It felt like hours before the chill finally drifted away.  Slowly, Jean creaked one eye open.  Andre stirred out of his lap and tentatively walked to the end of the alleyway, softly growling to warn off whatever was there.  Jean carefully rose back off the ground and looked around. He never felt more uneased in his life.  His whole body felt on edge and uncertain, like it didn’t have a concrete hold on itself.  He tentatively peeked his head out of the alleyway, relaxing as he saw people walking around the streets. 

               Jean crouched down to blindly pick up Andre but found himself catching nothing but air.  Twirling around, a swishing grey tail catches his eyes.  Andre has his front paws on the windowsill on a shop, chattering away.  Jean smiles as he walks up to him but it falters when he notices what is basking in the shop window.  Framed by dark purple drapes, three pots of lavender fill the window beautifully.  They were his Auntie’s favorite, French Lavender not English.

              Above the windowsill was a little metal sign that read “Halfway: herbal shop and aromatherapy.” This could be a good place for finding new plants for the conservatory.  Andre seems to agree as he twirls around the door. Sadly, he was not expecting to be scooped back into the bag, as he gave a short yowl at Jean. Jean just laughed.

              “Hey, you’re the one who gave me the bag in the first place.  And I am not going to let you roam freely in a stranger’s shop and have to pay for their supply of catnip.”  Andre just grumbles and rests his head on the side of the bag.  With the old man subdued, Jean enters the shop with a chime of a bell ringing above him.  The windowsill of lavender was only a tease to the beauty of the shop. While his Aunt’s conservatory was full and cluttered with pots of all shapes and sizes, the shop’s walls overflowed with plants but had order.  Each pot had a hand written note under it, explaining the plant and its uses clearly.  Beside each plant was little jars filled with premade remedies featuring its neighboring plant.  Jean was too immersed in the shop’s grandeur to notice the soft “Oh!” come from the shop’s back room, as the owner realized he had a guest. 

              “Why hello there.  I didn’t hear the bell ring when you came in.” A deep laugh came from behind Jean, causing him to turn around and almost swallow his tongue in surprise.  Wiping dirt from calloused hands was probably the most handsome man Jean has laid eyes on in years. The man looked close to his age, with dark hair that flipped softly over his forehead and accented his lovely chestnut brown eyes.  Sloping from the eyes was a nose splattered with freckles that banded across his defined cheekbones. (Jean bet they were even more defined up close) Jean tried not to stare too long at the man’s lovely lips but only caused him to stare at his square chin and defined collarbone. (Who wears a bottom up shirt to work and leaves all the buttons undone? Just kill me now, gods) This man’s shoulders and build in general was god-like.  If Jean knew working with botany was this great of a workout, he would have joined the gardening club instead of track back in high school.  While Jean had a pretty toned body from working with machinery and carrying metal parts around his engineering shop, this guy had broader shoulders and a wider waist than he did.  Jean dared not look any looker, especially since the man gave a soft cough and smile.

              “Oh... ha sorry.  I am, um still getting used to Rose Sina.” Jean tried to regain some face but his ears were bright red.  He did not mean to just stare at this guy without even giving his name. (Oh! That’s right! Name! Introductions! That shit I learned in Kindergarten!) “My-my name’s Jean Kirschtein!”

              Jean awkwardly thrusted his right hand out over the counter of the shop.  The man just smiled and grasped Jean’s hand in a gentle hold.  His hand was surprisingly cool to the touch. As they shook hands, Jean noticed the white scarring that circuited up his right arm and ended around the man’s right cheek, just circling around his eye.  (Must have been staring too hard into his eyes to notice before) Jean couldn’t place what caused them, but the man seemed to be unbothered by them if the black tattoo that intricately curved around them on the upper arm that wasn’t covered up meant anything.

             “Pleased to meet you, Jean. My name is Marco. Marco Bodt.”  The man spoke warmly with a wide grin.  (Wow, his name sounded nice coming out of his mouth) The man dropped Jean’s hand and placed it on his apron clad hip. 

             “What can I do for you, Jean?” Jean fumbled for his lists, averting his gaze to look down his chest.  (Oh gods, was his sweatshirt inside out this ENTIRE time? Why must he be so uncool today? Why on Hot Freckled God day?)  Finally, he ripped out the right list, trying to smooth it out as coolly as possible.  Jean could still save this first meeting.  Jean adjusted his footing and straightened up his posture, like he planned to look this way.

             “Yeah, I needed a few replacements for my conservatory. Some Angelica, Betony, Ginger.  The typical herbs ha.”  Jean extended the list, and Marco gratefully took it.  He silently read the list, a soft smile returning to his lips. 

             “Taking care of your Aunt’s favorite pastime, hmm?”  Marco met Jean’s eyes with a kind stare, no remorse just understanding.  Jean was taken aback.

             “How did you know about my Auntie?”

             “Well, Andre is a big hint, although he doesn’t seem too happy to see me.”  Marco pointed down to Jean’s bag, where Andre was staring at Marco with his ears turned down. To be fair, Andre was not much of a fan of anyone beyond Jean or his Aunt and was just forced into a bag.  Marco then returned Jean’s gaze with a warm smile. 

             “And, you and your aunt have the same beautiful amber eyes.”  Jean just swallowed audibly.  He just met this beautiful man.  He was not ready for this, despite how confident he was with his flirting.  He decided the best action would to ask how Marco knew his aunt… wait Marco? Could he possibly be THAT Marco?  Old geezer Marco?

             “Um, were you a botany friend of my Aunt’s?” Jean asked offhandedly, trying to pet down Andre glaring face into the bag.

             “Yes.  Your aunt was actually the one who taught me about the different qualities of herbs.”  Marco looked over to the lavender filled window.  “She was an amazing woman, even if her herbal preferences were a little debatable to my tastes.”

             Jean returned Marco’s soft smile.  So he was apparently the Marco in his Aunt’s journal, although he has not quite shown any tendencies that deserved her sharp words just yet.  He seemed more like a cinnamon roll than an “impatient imp.”  His aunt was very teasing though.  It could have just been one of her jokes.  But definitely was NOT the old geezer Jean assumed he was.

            “She really was.  I really miss her.”  Jean looked away from Marco’s deep eyes.  He didn’t need to be felt sorry for. Marco’s smile grew a little tight before relaxing. 

            “I understand.  I would be happy to help you with whatever you need.  It’s the least I can do.”  Marco brought out a small catalog, making little notes to what products he had in store or needed to order in.  “So is it just these plants you need replacements for? I can give you the Angelica and Ginger now, but the Cumin and Fennel will take some time to come in.”

            Jean scrunched his nose in thought, then remembered the lavender pots. “Oh yeah, the weirdest thing happened to the lavender by the doorway. It looks like they were wilting, like they would if they got exposed to the cold or chemicals.” 

            Marco pursed his lips, as Jean explained the situation.   He didn’t seem to be looking at Jean, lost in past thoughts.  However, when Jean finished talking, Marco caught himself and quickly shook his head before giving a reassuring smile.

            “No worries Jean.  I have a herbal mixture you can use to help them, and I’ll order some more lavender in with the rest of your order.”  Jean tried to will down his blush as he watched Marco turn around and reach for a small jar on a high shelf.  The reach made his shoulders move in a way that Jean thought must be illegal somewhere. Or he could just be dealing with attraction that happens after not dating anyone for a while.  Being an engineer has the money aspect, but not the date appeal aspect at all.

            Marco quickly turned back around, causing Jean to flinch at being possibly caught staring.  Thankfully, Marco didn’t seem to feel the burning gaze on his neck.  Pushing the small jar forward, Marco scribbled out something on the catalog note page before ripping it out and handing it to Jean. 

            “Here you go.  Just sprinkle that on the lavender, and it should do the trick.  But you should sprinkle it on any plants near the outer doorways and windowsills, just to be safe.  Also, have a spare list of your herb order.  They should be in by the end of the week.”  Jean checked the list and was surprised to see little notes Marco made on possible replacements to some of his herbs.  Apparently, there were better herbs for medicine than cooking, so he could get samples of them to see which he preferred.  Good to know.

            “Thanks, Marco.  What do I owe you for all of this?”  Jean grinned.  Marco just shook his head, eyes crinkling with his smile. 

            “You can pay for the herbs when they arrive.  The jar is on the house.”  Jean tried to argue with him, his hand fumbling to try to reach his wallet from under Andre.  Why didn’t he just put it in his back pocket like a normal person?  Marco just laughed again and reached over the counter to still Jean’s arm.

            “Think of it as a Welcome to Rose Sina present.  I really hope you will enjoy being here, Jean.”  Jean sheepishly scratched the back of his neck with his free hand.  Andre was currently holding his left arm captive.

            “If you’re sure, I guess I can’t refuse a gift.  Thank you.  So, what time should I come back?”  Jean tried to keep his voice even.  He wasn’t expecting to meet such a nice person here, especially not someone who was close to his Aunt.  He guessed that life really must work in mysterious ways.

            “Oh no worries.  Just send me a message, and I’ll tell you when I’m available.” Marco chuckled, getting louder as he watched Jean’s face slowly grow confused.  He leaned over the counter to point at the bottom of the note page.  Jean then noticed that Marco had neatly written down his phone number under his order.  Then, his brain had a minor meltdown.  He really couldn’t handle this freckled angel right now.  There were too many conflicting emotions to deal with. 

            “O-oh alright.  I will message you later then, but I better find the market. Andre gets antsy when he’s away from the cottage for too long.”  Jean finally muttered out.  Hopefully Marco would buy it, since Andre usually did prefer being home, protecting his house.  Marco nodded, his smile diminishing slightly. 

            “I understand.  I don’t want to keep you any longer.  If you keep walking on the path to the right of my shop, you’ll make it to the town center.  Rose Sina is essentially a big circle, so it’s easy to handle when you get used to it.”  Marco walked around the counter, glancing back to Jean while he grabbed different jars and oils and placed them on the counter.  It would make sense to think he had other customers coming in than his old teacher’s nephew.

            Placing the jar and folded page into the bag’s pocket, Jean smiled thankfully before slowly making way to the door.  He paused at the window display, admiring the lavender.  He bet Marco made this in memory of his Auntie Amelia.  Jean read too many notes from his aunt’s journals, to know that Marco would not normally feature lavender in his shop.

            “Hey Jean?” Jean twisted around quickly, with Andre snorting at him for jostling the bag.  Marco leaned against the counter, trying to find the right words. 

            “I’m… really happy you are here, Jean.  I don’t think Rose Sina would be the same without you.  Your aunt really made this special.  I feel like you are going to make your mark here, too.  See you soon.”  Marco kept his head low, looking at Jean with his characteristic soft smile.  Jean returned the smile, as he opened the door.

            “Thanks Marco. It was really nice to meet you.  See you soon.”

* * *

 

            Pushing the door open with his hip, Jean clumsily walked into the cottage with his arms full of groceries.  Marco sent him straight to the food market.  Jean talked to a lot of the vendors, asking about the various products.  He bought a lot of vegetables and bread to make some of his mom’s classic meals.  Thankfully, Andre waited until they got home to jump out of the bag.  He then jumped onto the kitchen counter to investigate what Jean bought.  Chittering happily as Jean pulled out the new food for him, Andre flitted around the paper bags. 

            Jean quickly spooned a little bit of food into the dish to distract Andre while he finishing unpacking food.  He managed to get enough to survive on actual meals.  He left the eggplant, squash, and tomatoes out for later use in his mom’s ratatouille recipe.  Then, Jean grabbed the jar Marco gave him and walked over to the doorway.  Popping off the top, Jean was greeted with the scent of cumin and sage.  It was a very comforting scent.  Tapping the top softly, he sprinkled a bit on each pot.  As he did, Jean almost thought that the room felt a little warmer.  Strange.

           Moving around the house, Jean did the same with the other border plants, until the jar was half empty.  He put the lid back on and placed the jar on the closest shelf by the door for safe keeping.  Scratching his head, Jean wondered if he should start making dinner or not.  Luckily, he had two voices of procrastination named Sasha and Connie, as he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. 

**From: Sasha**

           Hey Jean! We still haven’t heard from you! Does Rose Sina have a no friend service zone? You know how Connie worries.  Can you skype us? Cuz if we have to hear from you through your mom, I will come over there and eat all your food!

           Jean just rolled his eyes.  Like Sasha eating all of his food would be an actual threat.  Plus, she loved his mom, so she’s really just teasing Jean. 

           Jean just shrugged and grabbed his computer.  It would be nice to talk to his old friends, although he hopes they won’t see right through him and ask him any deep questions.  Logging into skype, Jean looked for BestSpudsSasha and called her.  Waiting for a little bit, the call was finally picked up and Jean was greeted with a close up of Connie’s nostrils.  Moving back, Connie fixed the camera with a wide grin.

           “Well look who it is.  How’s life without seeing my lovely mug every day?”  Jean just laughed at Connie’s awful selfie faces. 

           “Oh. I’m in utter agony.  How can I go on without that beautiful double chin in my life?” Jean flung his hand over his head dramatically.  Connor snorted, before rubbing his nose and sighing. 

           “I’m glad to see you laugh again, man.  I know it was hard to leave your mom, but I think that place is actually doing good for you.” Jean had forgotten how bad he must have been to be around after his Aunt passed away.  He remembered Sasha and Connie trying to make him laugh and feel better, but he just sat there.  He was just there around them physically, but his mind was lost to them.

           “Yeah, sorry about that, bro.  I guess I just had to accept she was no longer here.  She really meant something to me.”  Jean mumbled into his sleeve.  He truly felt bad.  He only thought about his own feelings these past few weeks.  Connie just shrugged his shoulders. 

           “Dude, don’t apologize.  We know how close you were to your aunt.  It’s always tough to lose someone.”  Connie smiled again, folding his hands behind his head.  “So, how’s Rose Sina?”

           Jean was about to say something before he heard a faint squawk and saw the computer fall as Sasha threw herself onto the couch.  Jean was dying as Connie and Sasha fumbled around trying to fix the computer.  They ended up sprawled across each other, Sasha stuffing her face with an Italian sandwich. 

           “Hey Jeanbo.  Glad to see you’re not dead. What happened? Have you found another?  Are we not enough for you, Jean? Did Make out Point mean nothing to you?”  Sasha gurgled between bites.  Her interrogation lost its touch with the glimpses of half chewed bread. 

           “Oh, I’m afraid it’s true, my loves.  My heart has been stolen. Here he comes now.” Jean sighed as he lifted Andre up onto the couch.  The cat sniffed towards the screen before curling up on Jean’s stomach. Sasha and Connie gasped.

           “Oh no! He’s gorgeous! We are no match, Sasha.  At least, -sniff- we have our memories.”  Connie feign cried. Sasha pretended to cry into her sandwich, but Jean could hear the giggles.  He simply waited, until they finally sobered up. Sasha leaned closer to the screen, trying to put on a serious face. 

           “Sooo, are there really no cute people out there? Not even people with pretty dark hair and legs for days?” Jean kept quiet.  Sometimes Sasha was a little too keen on guessing the situation. 

           “Well, there was a cute herbal shop owner who was apparently taught by my Auntie Amelia, but don’t get any ideas.” But Jean pouted angrily as Connie’s and Sasha’s eyes sparkled. 

           “OOooo! Jeanbo caught a cutie! Finally got over the crush from high school! We’re so proud.”  And so returned the fake crying.  Andre gave Jean a look that clearly said he was judging Jean’s choice of friends.  Jean just patted his head down, shushing him.

           “Calm down, you two.  I just met the guy.  He could be dating someone.  Knowing my aunt doesn’t mean anything.” Even if he called my eyes beautiful.  Marco was probably just the friendly type who complimented everyone he meets.  Jean probably shouldn’t get ahead of himself like he usually does.  Sasha and Connie just smiled and shrugged together. 

           “You never know, Jean.  He could love guys with silly, dyed undercuts.”  Connie teased. Jean rolled his eyes. Says the baldy.  Feeling his stomach rumble, Jean decided it was time he actually ate dinner. 

           “While I enjoy the insults, it is time to make dinner. I’ll talk to you guys soon, alright?”  Jean smiled, as Sasha made ugly throat noises at the sound of dinner.  Connie reached for the computer and pulled it onto their overlapping chests. 

           “Alright, Jean. Don’t forget to call home!” “Send me some BAGUETTES!” Jean laughed and waved as their call ended.  It felt great to talk to them again.  Despite their teasing, they really did care about what was best for him.  Stretching out his arms, Jean finally stood up, unintentionally making Andre tumble off him and entered the kitchen.  As he diced up the vegetables and heated up the pan, he didn’t even notice Andre wander over to the door and growl softly.  He also didn’t notice Andre jump up and knock down the spice jar.  The top came off and the mixture spread across the door.  Andre jumped back and was pleased to hear what could have been an airy hiss as he wandered over to the kitchen with Jean.  Jean did tell Marco the truth. 

           Andre did prefer staying home, protecting the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the second chapter. I will be going home for Thanksgiving break, so I won't be able to update anything for a little while. While I'm gone, I will be drawing up more of these nerds and writing, so look forward to that.


	3. Rosemary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the lovely comments. My schedule made it hard to finish this chapter. I will now try to post a chapter on an every other friday basis, hopefully. But for now, enjoy chapter three.

Pulling on a light tan cardigan over his white shirt, Jean prepared to meet Marco at the shop to see how his orders are going. It had been a couple of days since his first visit to the shop. He attempted to visit the shop more, but he mainly just made it to seeing the Halfway sign before his nerves got him and he jogged back to the cottage. Sasha and Connie were always the social goers. He acted cocky and loud when he was around his friends, but he was a terrible talker alone.

  
Jean fixed up the rest of the cottage to fill time, focusing on the conservatory. He emptied out the pots to the plants he ordered replacements for into a bucket. He deadheaded the rest of the plants and checked for any signs of illness, throwing the dead plant pieces also into the bucket. He would throw the bucket’s contents into the compost bin outside of his house. As he emptied out a pot, he pulled out a little post it note and stuck the name of that herb on the empty pot. He didn’t want to mess up the flow of his Auntie’s conservatory too much.  
Flitting through another journal to keep everything in order, he noticed how most of the journals had little green ribbons for bookmarks, and others had golden ones. The ones with gold ribbons were dustier than the ones Jean was reading through, so he assumed they were more personal and did not bother them.

  
Jean remembered showing the journals to his mom the other day, while skyping her the day after he went to the herbal shop. He thought that maybe she would know more about these journals and how Auntie Amelia would like him to care for the cottage. His mom was glad that the cottage was holding up, and told Jean how Amelia was always writing in a journal. She had ones for plants, herbal remedies, and personal ones, so his mom wasn’t surprised that she had a whole desk full of them. It was very relaxing talking to his mom again, since she mentioned how the time difference might make talking constantly a little difficult. Jean was used to hearing from his parents constantly, so this change was a little rough for him. They ended the call with chatting about the albums and his mom’s promise to send up a care package- she would even have Connie and Sasha send a few things in it.

  
Now Jean had the excitement of a package coming and getting to talk to Marco again. The week was turning out to be pretty bright- except for the sudden rainfall that had started up that morning and had not picked up. He normally loved rain. It always brought in this great smell of the earth with it. However, he just was not feeling it today. As he wandered up the steps to the bedroom, he wondered if his mood would change when he was actually out there.

  
In the bedroom, Jean looked around the armoire and in his discarded pants pockets for his house keys. While Rose Sina seemed safe enough, he still didn’t like leaving the house unlocked. Andre snorted at him from the bed, and Jean spied the keys disappearing under the fluff of Andre’s chest. Old brat knew what was going on. Jean attempted to pull Andre aside, but he was not budging.

  
“Come on, I know that you will never forgive me if I took you out today in this rain.” Jean griped as his hand was batted away again. When Andre got a hold of something he liked, it was harder to snatch than stealing the treasure from a fire- breathing dragon. Hell, a dragon wouldn’t even mess with its own horde if Andre decided it was his now. The best solution would to find something Andre likes more than keeping Jean from going anywhere without a feline bodyguard. Scanning the bedroom, Jean’s eyes finally landed on Andre’s basket. Perfect.

  
Glancing back to see if Andre budged at all, Jean walked out of the room and opened the door to the storage closet. Rummaging through the different boxes, Jean finally found the one filled with his Auntie’s old coats. It was of her classic petticoats that she would wear everywhere. Even in the summer, she always had one of these coats with her. It was frayed in different places with bits of dried herbs still stuck in the pockets. Jean held it close for just a moment, inhaling the scent of lavender and cumin. He closed his eyes and remembered burying his face into this coat whenever his Aunt would come visit. The scent was always therapeutic for him, so maybe it will make Andre calm down too.

  
Jean walked back to the bedroom, glancing over at Andre who scuttled around his spot on the bed when he caught sight of the coat. Crouching down, Jean began tucking the coat into the wicker basket. Soon, he heard a thump and felt Andre’s paws tap at his hands. Retrieving his hands from the attack, Jean smiled to himself as Andre curled up and began to nap. He carefully stood up and padded over to the bed to retrieve his freed keys. He tucked them and his wallet into his back pocket, before heading downstairs to grab his rain jacket and heading out.

  
Jean opened the door and stared out at the rain covered street. The roads were empty, nothing but the patter of rain making a sound against the brick roads. Zipping up the jacket, Jean locked up the cottage and made his way to Marco’s shop.

  
As he walked down the familiar growing streets, Jean felt a slight chill coming up from behind him. Jean tried to ignore it by focusing on the raindrops on the ivy. He grazed his fingers on one of the leaves, letting the water run from it to his hand. He didn’t even notice the chill back off as he focused on the ivy. Soon enough, he caught sight of the dark framed Halfway sign and made his way into the shop.

  
Marco was setting up different plants onto the shelves, placing new herbal remedies as the focal points. Hearing the chime of the bell, he turned around to smile and gesture Jean over.

  
“Good morning, Jean.”

  
“Morning.”

  
“No Andre today?” Marco quipped.

  
“No, I like having a happy roommate who won’t attack me in my sleep. Thanks.” Jean deadpanned.

  
Jean smiled as Marco snorted and laughed, stepping down from his little step stool. He waved Jean over to follow him around the counter and into the back of the shop. They passed through the partitioned doorway, and Jean zoned out as Marco chatted casually about Jean’ order.

  
The room was encased in brick with dark drapes cascading down the walls. The counters were filled with different mortar and pestles, ropes of sage and other herbs. The scent of old smoke from different herbs coated the room. In the center of the room stood a large table to lay down on, almost like a masseuse’s table.

Finally noticing that Jean was not listening to the caretaking of indoor plants, Marco spun around and chuckled as Jean bumped into him staring at everything else but where Marco was going. Jean just scratched the back of his head and chuckled in return.

  
“I don’t think I told you about my other passion in healing. I use aromatherapy and massage therapy to help people with joint pains and tissue damage. It is something I have trained in for quite some time.” Marco gestured at the different jars and oils set by the table, before he moved to the table. Jean’s brows furrowed in confusion. He was used to the Marco full of smiles, not the Marco with the far off eyes.

  
“What made you want to do this?” The question slipped out before Jean’s mind got the better of him. It was probably not the couth thing to do, but it was too late now. He watched as Marco paused before he rolled up the sleeve of his right arm, exposing more of the scarring and black tattoo that ran around them.

  
“When I was younger, I did some things that caused me to really hurt my right side. It was actually thanks to your Aunt and someone who I now consider a close friend that I was able to restore some of the feeling and agility of my arm.” As Marco told him what happened, he slowly flexed his arm and his fingers. Jean caught the slight shaking that he didn’t notice the other times he saw Marco. (Given Jean was mainly admiring the muscles before) Marco just stared at his arm with a grim look in his eyes.

  
“I still have a few problems with stability, but I do what I can.” Marco said before shaking off the grim look and replacing it with a smile. Jean thought to himself how he definitely preferred the Marco full of smiles.

  
“Now, I help people who have had similar pasts and problems by using herbal remedies to rehabilitate them. Typically, if you do not let your injuries stand alone, you can resolve most of the damage done.” With that, Marco pulled on his sleeve back down to it original cuffed state below the elbow. It left Jean with a tiny moment to collect his thoughts on this new information. It must have been rough dealing with such deep tissue damage. Jean broke his leg before in the summer before middle school that only had the name of “Connie’s Trost Hill Terror” and involved Connie’s new bike and old roller skates. However, that healed up fine with just a scar along his right knee. This was different. This must have been what drove Marco to be the man he was today.

  
“So… helping others is like your own form of therapy.” Jean finally muttered out. Marco paused before lifting his head and meeting Jean’s eyes with a warm glowing smile.

  
“Yea. I guess that’s exactly it.”

  
They smiled at each other before Marco finally took them to a little conservatory in the very back of the shop. It was as organized as the front was, with pot upon pot of different herbs and budding plants. In a little corner was a collection of different herbs with a little note reading Jean in front of them. The pots were small and filled two crates. As Marco wandered over to the crates, he spoke once again.

  
“You know, I have actually been teaching an apprentice of my own. He reminds me a little of myself when I was younger, except he’s way smarter than I ever was. You’ll meet him today, since he’s holding down the shop while I help you bring your order home.”

  
Jean was not expecting that statement. In denial, Jean smiled and shook his hands in front of him. “You don’t need to do that. It is honestly pouring out there, and I wouldn’t want you to do another nice thing for me.”

Marco just gave Jean a halfhearted stern look. “I can handle a few blocks, Jean. Besides, rain never lasts too long in Rose Sina.”  

With that, Marco grabbed one of the crates and handed it to Jean before grabbing the second one. He picked up a few bags of soil and nutrients and placed them in his crate. Jean just waited for him and tried not to stare avidly as Marco kept bending over to grab new bags.  Walking back to the front, Marco asked Jean a few things.

“So, did you get the soil from that outside bin I told you about?” Jean nodded, remembering finding the large compost bin located in the tiny area between his Aunt’s cottage and the house beside her. Apparently, his neighbors also used it to throw away old food stuff, or Andre was hiding an addiction to bananas and oranges. Marco smiled and explained the benefits to keeping up with compost.

  
Jean again dozed off, set his crate on the counter, and looked around the shop some more. It seemed like Marco made a certain herb mixture the feature one in his shop window. The lavender for his Auntie Amelia was exchanged for some rosemary plants. The deep purple curtains remained the same. Jean wondered if that was for his Auntie too, before noticing shadows appear out of the display window. Marco stopped talking about composting and his face lit up at the chime of the bell.

  
In walked three people Jean has not really seen from walking around the streets of Rose Sina (well, the ones between his house and Marco’s shop). The first one was a lithe, blond man who immediately made his way to Marco. He had a journal that seemed full of notes and had so many dog-eared pages. He must have been the apprentice, if Jean had to guess. The next person made Jean blush a little in embarrassment. She reminded him a lot of his high school crush back in Trost. She had silky black hair and deep gray eyes. Jean probably would have crushed on her back then, but within those gray eyes was a promise that Jean was no match for her. She glanced between the two chatting and Jean, like she was trying to figure out what kind of guy he was. Trying not to start anything, Jean moved his gaze to the guy chatting to the girl as they waited for the blond man to finish his excited herbology chatter. This guy had dark brown hair that was long enough that it probably always had that fluffed up look and it framed his angry brows. He was pretty cute in the I-want-to-fight-you-and-then-kiss-you kind of way. He had his arms crossed, and Jean noticed that he had similar scarring to Marco’s arm along his arms. His scarring was lighter and almost ribboned around his arms.

  
As Jean wondered about the three people’s stories, he noticed that he was not the only person assessing a person’s appearance. The tanned bedhead was staring at Jean, with an unknown look in his eyes. With a quirked eyebrow, he turned to Marco and cut off their conversation with the blond man.

  
“Hey Marco, are you helping a customer right now?” Marco stopped remarking on the blond man’s notes, almost like he forgot he had more people in the shop with him. He quickly smiled and leaned over to Jean.

  
“Oh sorry, I am forgetting my manners. This is Jean. He’s new to Rose Sina. Jean, these are my friends. Armin, the one I told you I was teaching aromatherapy too.”  
Marco gestured his hand to the blond man, who smiled softly and offered a formal handshake and hello to Jean. Jean returned it gracefully before returning to fiddle somewhat nervously with the plants in his crate. He really wished Connie was here to help him break the ice.

  
“This is Mikasa. She is a great person to get advice from.”  
Mikasa nodded to him, fixing with the red scarf around her neck before offering a quick handshake. Jean guessed she was the type to open up more when he actually had the time to talk to her one on one.

  
“And this is Eren. He helps with the crate deliveries.”  
Finally, he stopped at Mr. Angry Brows, who looked like he had conflicted feelings with Jean. Did he think Jean was reliving his high school crush with Mikasa and not approve of him as a proper suitor? He just huffed at Jean.

  
“Jean huh? So what made you venture into Halfway?” Eren’s arms never unlocked from the crossed, judging position. Jean picked up a little pot of cumin, hoping holding it would help him not get riled up by this guy when first meeting him.

  
“I was… interested in restoring my conservatory. Some of the plants needed to be replaced.”

  
Eren did not look impressed. “So you do Botany?

  
“Herbology actually.” Jean was not liking Eren’s tone towards his reasons for coming here.

  
“Well, what do you know?” Eren pushed.

  
“I know enough that I do not need your approval. That’s why I went to ask MARCO for help, not his little errand boy.” Jean huffed, his classic cockiness starting to return. “Like you have much going on up there anyways.” Jean leaned in and jeered. If this guy wanted to know what he was thinking so badly, Jean would let him have it. Eren just snarled at him.

  
“I am no errand boy!” The other three were starting to shuffle at the two arguing, but Jean didn’t care.

  
“Oh right, delivery boys are SUCH a vital necessity in herbology.” Jean smirked. Eren’s face turned dark, as he threw his arms down like he was about to attack Jean.

  
“Like you know anything about what Marco does? Who would bother teaching a horse faced jerk like you?”

  
Everyone went quiet after that. Armin and Mikasa whispered “Eren” at him. Jean looked down at the budding cumin plant in his hands. His cockiness vanished, as Eren’s words sunk in. Marco moved slowly to stand between Eren and Jean. Jean felt a shiver go down his spine as Marco’s eyes went dark and his smile turns into a strained line. His bright mood from chatting with Armin was gone.

  
“He knows these things because of MY mentor, Amelia.” The trio’s eyes all widened. They must have known his Aunt or heard stories.

  
“SHE taught him as well, because he is HER nephew. He is the new owner of HER cottage and asked me to help restore HER conservatory in HER memory, so PLEASE shut your mouth Eren, before you say ANYTHING ELSE that you can’t take back.”

  
Jean watched as Eren’s once stern glare turned wide and softened. He looked over to Armin and Mikasa, biting his lip as he took in their disappointed looks. He slowly reached up to rub at a key and ribbon resting around his neck, as he looked over at Jean with a lowered face.

  
“Jean, I-I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have been so stupid to question you. I know what’s it like to lose a loved one.”

  
Jean stared silently at him, trying to find the words to say next. The silence returned once more to the shop. He wasn’t expecting the conversation to flip so quickly, especially to the tender talk of his aunt. He didn’t feel like he should have to justify his reasons for being in Rose Sina. He knew that his Aunt would want him to take care of her pastime, just like she expected him to do great in this town. He knew that she would also want Jean to forgive Eren, even if they both attacked without thinking.

  
Jean tried to quip his lips into a smile but failed miserably. “It’s alright. It’s just been difficult to accept.”

  
Eren nodded- although he did not raise his head, before Armin led him aside to help with the other order crates. Mikasa moved to follow, but turned to Jean swiftly.  
“Cumin is best to keep by open airways.” She said calmly and almost like an apology for what Eren said. She then smoothly entered the back room, leaving Marco and Jean in the front alone.

  
Marco watched the trio exit the main room before turning to Jean with a solemn look in his eyes.

  
“Jean. I’m sorry for how that conversation turned. I should have warned you about Eren’s quick to act nature. He and Mikasa always help Armin hold up the shop when I am away. You shouldn’t mark him up as a bad person though. Eren has… been through a lot, so he is often harsh to you at first. It’s a defense mechanism. He’ll soften up as he gets to know you.” Marco rushed, trying to make sure that Jean was alright and understood what went wrong. “Trust me. He and I had an awful first meeting. We have come a LONG way.”

Jean wanted to accept Marco’s reasoning but could not just yet. “I’ll take your word for it.” He finally stated dully. Marco smiled, his eyes crinkling in slight relief.

  
Turning away from Marco, Jean placed the cumin back into the crate before balancing it on his right hip. He felt a chill forming around his chest, like Eren’s words were still there picking at his fresh wounds of losing his Aunt. He wanted to ignore the chill and believe Marco, but it was easier said than done. Instead, Jean chose to put an easy going look on his face to cover up his inner feelings.

  
“If you are ready, we can head over to the cottage. Andre is probably going to eat all of the catnip to get back at me for leaving him there.”

  
Marco stared at Jean for a second, trying to decipher any hidden feelings, but quickly nodded and grabbed his crate off of the counter. Holding the crate on his left side, he turned to shout towards the therapy room. “Armin! We’re heading out now. I should be back before closing.”

  
Jean heard Armin begin to respond before a loud “Wait!” interrupts him. Out of the therapy room comes Eren, holding a tiny slip of paper. He stopped in front of Jean and held the crumpled paper out to him. He kept his eyes on Jean’s shoulder, not really willing to meet Jean’s eyes after what he said.

  
“Mikasa told me I should make up for being rude. I do feel sorry for not thinking about what I say before saying it, so here’s my number. You should use it if you need help with anything, o-or if you want a better tour around Rose Sina. Armin is in good terms with the baker and can often get good deals on morning pastries. It’s not a proper apology, but I don’t want you to feel like I meant to insult your aunt. J-just think about it, okay?”

  
With that, Eren dropped the paper into Jean’s hand and bolted back over the counter and into the therapy room. Jean flicked over the paper and to Marco, who was looking back to the therapy room with a soft smile. He didn’t even notice Jean staring. Back to the paper, Jean saw that all three of them had scrawled out their numbers on the paper. Two of them were very neat, while Eren’s was large and expressive, similar to how he talked. He pressed the paper into his pocket, adjusted the crate on his hip, before leading Marco out of the door.

  
As they walked back, Jean watched the sky begin to clear up. Guess Marco was right about the rain in Rose Sina. The roads were filled with that sweet smell that always come after the rain.

  
However, as they walked down the street, the ivy shivered around them and Jean felt the chill again. He thought he saw Marco pause but second guessed it. Trying to blame it on the rain, Jean hurried back home.

Jean opened the cottage door, only to have Andre snort at him and scold him in grumbled yowls.

  
“Oh shut up, I know how you hate what rain does to your fur.”

  
Marco chuckled at Jean arguing with Andre. Jean caught Marco just smiling after him and felt a flutter in his chest. He softly smiled in return, but his face scrunched up as Andre refused to let the moment stay. Old fart. Jean swiftly picked Andre up and placed him in the crate. Andre chose to place his weight on the back of the crate, as he kept his eye on Marco.

  
They wandered to the conservatory and began unloading the new plants. Marco nodded appreciatively at the post it notes. Jean tried to begin repotting the Amaranth, but Andre would not quit nudging him and getting in his way. Looks like Andre did not think the coat was a forgivable enough excuse to leave him without a returning gift. Sighing, Jean turned to Marco who had a small pot of Rosemary in his hand, trying to find the associated pot.

  
“That’s actually for the bedroom. My mom and Auntie always said to keep Rosemary by my bed. It’s supposed to be for a good night’s rest and good dreams. It’s the first door on the right upstairs.” Jean asked, as Andre wiggled his ways into his arms.

  
Marco nodded and headed upstairs. Lifting a now happily chittering Andre up, Jean headed into the kitchen. As Jean filled up Andre’s bowl, he jolted back as he heard a quick shout and a thud. Jumping up the stairs, Jeans stared at Marco clutching his chest while leaning against the wall. The pot was in a vice grip in his left hand. His right hand was shaking on the floor, like it was trying to grab something. Jean rushed over and helped Marco up.

  
“Marco, what’s wrong?” Jean searched for something in Marco’s eyes, but Marco quickly looked away. He brushed off his jeans and tried to chuckle with the air he still had in his lungs.

  
“S-sorry, was just startled.”

  
Jean looked over and noticed the mirror of the armoire framing them perfectly. “Oh yeah, the armoire. Ha, Don’t feel bad Marco. It startled me, too, the first time I saw it. Suddenly seeing your reflection is a little shocking.” Marco just rubbed the back of his neck as he stared at the armoire.

  
“Yea, my reflection. It sure was a surprise.”  
\--

  
Putting the last plant- some basil, into its new pot, Marco piled the crates on each other and headed out to the living room. Jean thought to himself how Marco looked cute after he unknowingly smudged dirt on his cheek. It was a nice time just fixing up the conservatory with him in a peaceful silence. It felt like they were used to each other and did that kind of stuff all of the time. Marco smiled, as he finally noticed the dirt smudge and rubbed at it with his right hand.

  
“Ha, whoops. Well, I never said that my job wasn’t dirty. I am really glad I got to help you with this.” Marco said happily. Seemed like his mood had improved after the awkward moment in the shop as well. Jean smiled and rubbed the back of his neck.

  
“I should be thanking you. You keep doing me all of these favors. Do you want anything in return?” Jean said, part of his mind hoping the favor would be of the possible date variety. The same part of his mind grew a little hopeful as Marco gave a playful smile.

  
“Well, you could… take Eren on his offer of exploring Rose Sina. I mean, Andre is a great companion, but you should see what else Rose Sina has to offer. Like beyond my shop street.” Marco teased. Jean chuckled to himself, trying not to overthink Marco’s gaze at the ‘has to offer’ part.

  
With that Marco opened up the cottage door, leaning his left side with the crates on it and stared around at the living room for a moment. He stared at the wall of photos and drawings, his face far off before he returned his gaze with another smile that made his eyes crinkle.

  
“I never get tired of this place. I could see why you wouldn’t want to go far from here either, but remember that Rose Sina has its own beauty to explore. See you soon, Jean.” Marco calmly stated before walking out the door and letting it close with a soft thud. Jean sighed, a mixture of happiness and exhaustion. While Rose Sina did have a few nice qualities, it also had a few stress inducers. Pulling out his phone, Jean felt that he could use more advice from his friends. Hopefully, Connie or Sasha would be able to give him a second opinion on how his decisions on carrying on his Auntie’s wishes are carrying on despite the latest events. Jean really hated being away from the people that kept him together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all liked the chapter. Eren finally made it into the story, so we will see how Jean moves forward on that rocky start. If you have any questions, my tumblr is suileye.tumblr.com. I will post any drawings or updates on writing progress on there, so stay tuned and thanks for reading.


	4. Rose Hips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean figures out what he should do next after the incident with Eren at Marco's shop. He figures talking to Connie and Sasha couldn't hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the latest chapter of my story. I am a little iffy on how european markets are organized, but I gave it my best. Always welcome to notes on French culture, though.

The other day, Jean thought to text Connie and Sasha, but he remembered the costs of international messaging rates and Connie’s and Sasha’s cheap phone plan. He turned to messaging them on skype instead and waiting for them to check. When he messaged them, it was early enough that they would still be sleeping. The time difference was something that Jean didn’t think about. He was lucky he was able to catch the others so easily the few first calls, but now he had to think about what time he would be awake and if they would be sleeping or at work. It was a nine-hour difference after all. By the time he received a message from Connie, Jean was about to fall asleep. Connie asked Jean if he would skype during Connie and Sasha’s lunch break the next day. Jean just mumbled and wrote a drowsy “Kay,” before he dropped the phone off the bed with a soft thud. 

That following evening, Jean finished cleaning the rest of the pans and moved back to the living room, waiting to hear the little ping that told him Connie was online. Andre was waiting for him, wanting to move behind the laptop when Jean sat down. He really loved the laptop. 

Getting settled, Jean was pleased to hear the online ping, clicking on Connie’s skype to begin the call. The camera focused on the sounds of pans clattering against metal. They must still eat in their food truck, Best Spuds, before the lunch rush. Sure enough, the camera focused to Sasha and Connie cleaning up and passing each other fries. 

“Earth to potato cultists. Potato cultists come in.”

Sasha just shoved her greasy finger toward the camera, trying to hush Jean. “You’re just jealous that you can’t eat like in a truck like us cool kids anymore.” Jean just laughed as Connie snorted and almost choked on a fry as he tried to agree with Sasha. Finally, Connie managed to clear his throat enough to tell Jean to just reiterate what shit happened.   
Jean paused, almost hoping that Connie had forgotten, but Connie never forgets things like this. He’ll forget where he left his stuff after putting it down for a minute, but he never forgets when a friend seems troubled. Taking a deep breath, Jean retold the whole day at Marco’s shop, ignoring Sasha’s and Connie’s teasing about where Marco could massage him. He paused after he caught himself rambling about the incident with Eren and what he thinks he should do. 

Connie rubbed his head, thinking of the best thing to say after Jean’s big spiel. Sasha began busying her hands by chopping up ingredients, but spoke up first.

“Well, Eren sounds like a real hothead, but I don’t think he actually knew what effect his words would have. He didn’t know about Amelia and why you were in Rose Sina.” Connie nodded.  
“Yeah, still a dick move though.” Connie said offhandedly, before he better adjusted the laptop to allow Jean to see the two more clearly while they prepared to reopen. Shit, he didn’t want to spend most of the time griping about his problems. He wanted guidance. 

“So, what should I do? I mean Mikasa and Armin seem nice, but I don’t think Eren and I are going to mix well.” Jean rubbed his hand over his eyes, groaning. 

“Well, I don’t think holing yourself up in the cottage is going to do you any good. You always get into a funk when you are not around people for a while.” Connie stated, trying to tease but his concern showing through.

Jean muttered his agreement. While he did like having time to himself, his mind would wander and make him question if people actually wanted to be around him. When he had some really bad episodes, he would write to his Auntie and she would write back words of encouragement and pressed flowers. It helped him not feel alone. Jean picked at his jeans as he thought more about his situation. Seeing his friends on a screen was not as comforting as having them here to talk him out of his delusions. 

Luckily, Sasha piped in and snapped Jean out of it. “Yea, I say call one of the other two and take them up on their offer. It will do you good to explore Rose Sina. And if Eren gives you any problems, just toss him into a trash can and move on.”

Jean smiled at the trash joke, glad they were not making him feel like the situation was dire. Sasha and Connie were good for that. Making sure to help with issues with a light humor instead of a deep stressful tone that makes Jean freak out even more. 

They muttered on about different news- mainly about Sasha considering an archery tournament and Connie thinking about saving up for the newest game system- before Connie and Sasha needed to hang up. Jean was sad to see them go but knew how testy their customers could be at times. They wished each other good luck on their day and went offline.

Jean petted Andre for a little while after, pondering his options on what to do next. He knew that he should try to get outside of the cottage, but his nerves were telling him to just stay where it is safe. Maybe he will be fine this time. He has Andre at least. It wasn’t until Andre decided petting time was over and pounced away that Jean finally sighed and reached for his phone. So much for listening to his nerves.

Standing up, Jean shook himself and psyched himself up. He was a man who needed to walk out his strategy during a call. Accepting this offer was not a sit down and be calm job. No sir. Cracking his neck for good measure, Jean finally clicked on Armin’s number. He seemed like the best one to call at this hour and situation. The dial tone made him hold his breath for what seemed like forever, until he finally heard a soft “hello?” 

“H- hey, Armin. I- it’s Jean, from you know the other day… at Marco’s shop.” Jean stammered out, anxiously running his hand through his hair. He had less trouble calling his crush at home back in middle school than this seemingly casual call. Jean awkwardly shuffled around the living room, hearing a soft sound of recognition and then a gentle thud of something- a book maybe- being put down on the other side.

“Oh yes Jean. I was hoping you would call this number. Well, we all were. So, I’m guessing you want to take our offer on showing you around Rose Sina.” Armin responded, soundly quite pleased with the call. 

“I was.. er.. am interested yea. Is there any day in particular you are planning to go to the market?” Jean asked. “I could use a few vegetables for stew and actually wanted to know about the fish market that Mikasa mentioned.” Yea, he needed food, not friends to make him feel needed or anything. 

“Actually, we were planning to do a little shopping tomorrow, so you have perfect timing. You can meet at Love Knot bakery. It’s a little way up the street from Marco’s shop. Does around ten sound good?” Armin rolled out, smoothly addressing the whole day out without a hiccup. Jean just nodded, until he realized he was on the phone.

“Oh, yeah. That sounds good. I guess I will see you tomorrow then.” He was not expecting this to go so smoothly. He heard Armin say something about checking the fish market times to someone else in the room and then heard possibly Mikasa respond warmly before Armin returned to Jean’s call. 

“Fantastic. I will see you at ten, and make sure to turn right at Marco’s shop. The Love Knot will be on the same side as his shop.” Armin stated with a contented sound to his voice. Jean guessed he caught him at a good time, or that he was happy that things were going accordingly. 

“Alright then. Thank you for the offer. Have a good night.” Jean said, his anxiousness dying a little down. 

“It is no problem at all, Jean. Good night.” Armin responded, before a soft click ended the call. Jean balanced on his heels for a few moments after the call. Then, he decided to get an early night’s rest and headed upstairs. He did it. He made the call. Now he just had to wait and hope he won’t regret it. 

Jean wandered up the road, pushing up his sleeves to his dark green hoodie past his elbows. His left arm sleeve was old enough to reveal, and Jean wanted to feel the breeze on his arms. He paused at Marco’s house and pondered what he is doing right now. Is he preparing breakfast or for a customer? Jean tentatively checked in the shop window, but didn’t see anyone. The counter was empty of any freckled cuties, not that Jean would know what to do if Marco was there and caught him at the window. He probably had better things to do than to baby sit Jean at his little outing. 

Jean felt the breeze grow a little colder, as he turned right and continued walking. He had hoped a good night’s sleep would dissolve any anxious feelings but of course they persisted. He almost felt like being alone would be better than facing the trio again after the incident. He could handle -at least he thought- voluntary isolation but not actual isolation from new people rejecting him. Trying to shake it off, Jean focused on the way the breeze made the ivy leaves shutter and remember his home friends’ words of encouragement to at least try. 

Following the street, Jean quickly spotted a wooden sign with “The Love Knot Bakery” spelled out in delicate red cursive. The writing curved around a painted pastry that made a heart in the center of the sign. Underneath the sign were Armin, Mikasa, and Eren. Armin was wearing a light blue cardigan over a pale seafoam shirt and blue jeans and ushering him over with a bright smile. Mikasa was wearing a tan jacket over a rose top and dark burgundy pants that were accented well with her red scarf. She waved at Jean before looking back at Eren. Eren stepped a little back as Jean came closer to the trio, tugging at his tan sweater and not staring at Jean just yet. 

Jean gave a quick wave as he stopped in front of the trio and the shop. “Hello.” He was not quite sure where to go just yet. Armin smiled and reached for Jean’s arm warmly. It was not reach for a handshake but a soft press on his arm, like Armin wanted to give him an embrace but allowed Jean his space until he said otherwise. (Armin doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable, but is more of a touch to create bond person)

“Happy to see you again, Jean.” The other two say their hellos, Mikasa with a step towards Jean with her wave, Eren with a quick tuck of his arm back into his side. Mikasa looked to Armin, who smiles and looks over to Eren before speaking. “Let’s go in, shall we?”

They entered the bakery and it is filled with soft shades of creams and browns. Baskets holding fresh bread and flowers fill the front and lead them to the glass pastry cases. Each glass case had several kinds of pastries with delicate colored creams. Jean paused at the cases, staring at the tasty looking rolls and cream puffs. A soft hello made him lift his head up to greet the small ginger woman behind the counter. She had a warm smile that was accented by the freckles on her cheeks and wore a cream dress with a pale red apron with the little heart insignia of the shop on the pocket. 

“Hello, Armin. Mikasa. Eren. Who is your new friend that you’ve brought into our shop?” She smiled at Jean, as she pulled out a small sliver of a cream puff and handed it to him to try. Jean paused and kind of stared at it, before graciously smiling and taking it. He let Armin do the talking as he savored the delicate sweet flavors.

“Hello Hannah. This is Jean. He is relatively new to Rose Sina and we are showing him around the marketplace today. Where is Franz today?” Armin spoke warmly, returning her smile. Mikasa and Eren were talking to themselves as they decided on their choices. Hannah gestured to the back of the bakery. 

“Franz is busy kneading dough for the next batch of rolls. Franz! Say hello.” Hannah chimed over her shoulder. A cheerful hello resonated from the back. Armin smiled again, before turning to Jean who was idling sucking on his thumb where some leftover cream lingered. 

“If you liked that Jean, you should try their mille- feuille or their daily tarts. What kind do you have today, Hannah?”

Hannah smiled, before walking over to the cases on the right side of the counter where Mikasa and Eren were standing. She pulled out a plate filled with crisp tarts with a layered design of fruits on top. 

“It’s our Ode to Summer tart that we have just after Fall begins to wish off the warm Summer days into the crisp Fall evenings. It is a twist of Franz’s mother’s apple and plum pie that his mother used to make in his home in Belgium.” 

Jean leered over Armin’s head, his sweet tooth starting to become known to the trio. Jean was not aware of the longing look on his face and how much it looked like a cat waiting for its bowl of cream. Eren let a small laugh slip out, although he frowned soon after, because Jean snapped out of his sweet faze to glare at him. Mikasa chuckled at the two before turning to Hannah. “We will take four of those to start and I’ll have the white tea as well.” 

Eren grabbed a hard roll from a neighboring basket. “White tea and milk for me, along with this roll please.” He looked over at Jean quickly before averting his eyes to Armin.  
“Please prepare a whole pot of white tea, Hannah. I would like some as well.” Armin asked politely before looking over to Jean, who quickly moved from staring at the tarts to back to the crème pastries. 

“I will have the tea, I guess. Also, one of whatever cream puff you gave me. I think it was the lemon. Please.” Jean gazed at the delicately arrayed cream puffs. There were so many flavors. He needed to come back and try them all. Hannah softly laughed before getting out a couple of plates and asking Franz to put the kettle on. She carefully placed the pastries on and passed them to Armin, who gracefully took them and moved to allow Mikasa hand Hannah the money for the meal. Jean quickly fumbled for his wallet, but Mikasa held out her hand. 

“We offered to take you out, Jean. I can pay for this. Please go with Armin.” Mikasa spoke gently, her look telling Jean that she would not take any of his money even if he tried to sneak it to her. He obediently walked over to Armin who was waiting for him to open the door to the outside seating area. Jean walked a little faster, before holding the door wide open and almost knocking over a basket of baguettes. Hannah just laughed, while the trio tried to muffle their laughter. Jean felt his ears grow a little red before he tried to brush it off and smile a confident smile, be it a little crooked. 

Armin moved towards the table beside the open window of the bakery, allowing the smells and faint laughter from inside to waft around them. He smoothly placed the tray down before gesturing at Jean to take the chair facing the window. Jean sat down and idly watched as Armin set out the different treats before gazing up into the shop. Mikasa and Eren were chatting with Hannah about something but Jean could not make it out. He laughed a little to himself as he watched Hannah mention something to Eren and having him jolt back and jostle a few baskets. Looks like Jean wasn’t the only clumsy one around here. 

He found himself smiling at Eren’s quick movements, until Eren caught his gaze and he quickly scowls and looks away. Although his teared gaze made him stare right into the eyes of an amused Armin. The blush returned to his ears with vigor, but Jean denied its existence. He rather chose to fill his face with cream puff than try to defend himself.   
Armin just hummed to himself, letting Jean keep to himself and waited for the other two to come outside. Shortly after he bit into the cream puff, Jean watched as Mikasa was passed a red teapot and Eren was given a tray of cups and a small pitcher of milk. They moved to the outdoor seating, and Hannah waved to Jean from her spot inside the bakery before moving out of sight to the kitchen.

Mikasa took the seat across from Armin, leaving Eren with the spot right across from Jean. This could either go peacefully or horribly wrong. Grabbing one of the cups, Jean thanked Mikasa for pouring him some tea and dropped a few cubes of sugar in before launching into the tart. 

Jean’s sweet tooth once again made a comeback appearance for the trio as Jean moaned at the taste of the tart. The apple and plums were tart with the sweet accent of a cinnamon sugar glaze that sunk into the light cream on the top of the crisp spice tart. It was divine pleasure, and Jean could not wait to savor every moment of it. Eren however, did not see the divine spirit of the experience, so much as the orgasm face that Jean made.

“Whoa, Kirschtein. Not in public.” Eren jeered before his better judgment got to him. Jean just glared right back at him. 

“You’ve got something to say, Yeager?” Jean snarled, his anger from the times before rearing back. His snarl retracted after Mikasa planted the teapot firmly down on the tray with a clear sound. Her warning glare started at Jean before moving to Eren and staying there. Eren looked mad to Jean, but then his face showed a mixture of emotions before settling on remorse and staring down at his tart and hard roll. 

Armin cleared his throat and began some idle chit chat to distract them from the possible fight. This day was supposed to be a chance to make mends with Jean, after all, not create a larger rift. They chatted for a while, finishing off the tarts and tea quickly. Mikasa collected the plates and cups, before she suggests that they get some bread to go before moving onto the market. 

Jeans wandered in with her and picked up a baguette and a few more cream puffs. Franz was bringing in some fresh rolls into the bakery front and smiled at Jean.

“Hello, you are Jean, yes?” Franz said with a small smile. Jean nodded and smiled back. Franz nodded, placing a few rolls into a box and whispering to Hannah before moving back into the kitchen. Hannah put the box into a bag before placing Jean’s cream puffs and baguette in as well. 

“Franz said that he wanted you to have some fresh rolls as a Welcome to Rose Sina gift. Here you go.” Hannah handed him his bag, and Jean once again paused for a moment before thanking Hannah and letting Mikasa pay for her bread.

After that, Armin showed him around town and showing him to the market that Jean had been to before. But this time, he had Armin telling him about the best places to buy produce. Who to go to get eggplant and how to get a deal on cabbages by suggesting to the old guy that you heard of another guy down by the waterfront. As they drifted through the different stands, Jean noticed that Eren kept glancing his way like he was trying to figure out a good place to restrike his conversation. 

After a few more stalls, Eren just groaned and grabbed Jean’s sleeve to stop him. “Hey.”   
“What?” Jean griped, waiting for the next insult to slip out. Eren just grabbed his hand and lifted up his left arm. 

“Do… you mind telling me about your tattoos? Since you’re covered with them and all.” Eren asked softly, trying to choose his words instead of just saying what first came to mind. Jean paused for a moment, debating if he should, before softly nodding and rolling both sleeves up to reveal more of his tattoo sleeves. 

He explained each one, starting with his robotic sleeve, growing bolder as Eren kept quiet but face shined with genuine interest. He explained how he designed it around his tattoo that he got with Connie and Sasha. Then, he pulled at his hoodie collar to show some of the ivy leaves of his back tattoo, explaining how his Aunt designed that one for him. As he talked more about his Aunt, he finally moved to the memorial sleeve and told Eren a short story of what it meant to Jean and his mom. 

Eren stayed silent, except to murmur words of agreement and approval, until the end of Jean’s talk. Then, he nodded before slowly moving his hand to his chest and clutching the sweater. 

“I have one to remember my mother, too.” He said simply, looking into Jean’s eyes.  
After that conversation, the day was a lot more enjoyable for Jean. He found himself sharing more stories with Eren and actually enjoying the boy’s humor, even if he was quick to speak teases sometimes caused them to argue for a little while. Armin and Mikasa seemed pleased to see them get along as well as they could as children trapped inside 25 year old bodies. 

Mikasa pointed out the fish market on the lower roads of the town, as they finished wandering around the market stalls. Mikasa lead the group through the market, knowing how to haggle with the vendors, and getting Jean a good deal on salmon and cod. They don’t spend too much time in the fish market. Mikasa is a shopper that gets what she wants and leaves without letting the vendor try to persuade her into buying more.

As they walk out of the market, a deep voiced shout echoed out to them. Jean looked over to see two giants and a petite woman walk towards them. The giant yelling at them was a muscular blond man, with his arm holding the arm of an even taller, but lankier tan man. The two men walked over to Armin and the blond one wrapped his other arm around him, giving him a strong side hug. 

“Armin! How are you doing, little buddy? Still helping out Freckles?” the man laughed, as he squeezed Armin. The woman with them moved towards Mikasa and Eren and said hello. Upon closer notice, the petite woman gave off a clear aura that she could suplex him without breaking a sweat. The two trios greeted each other warmly, allowing Jean to stop and stare for a moment. 

The whole trio had scarring similar to what Marco showed on his arm. From what was revealed by the woman’s short leggings and the blond man’s v- neck, they all had pale scars wrapped around their legs, arms, and even the one man’s chest. Jean’s eyes followed along the scarring, traveling across each person until he caught eyes with the tallest one. His pale green eyes – with scarring wrapped around them and trailing past his cheeks- seemed to look right through Jean, as he was seeing something no one else did. 

As the two stared at each other, the rest of the group stepped out of their conversations to notice them. The blond man smiled at the taller man beside him, before lifting his right arm and gently touching the man’s chin. 

“Bert, you’re staring at Eren’s new friend.” The taller man, Bert, twitched at the man’s touch before softly smiling and looking down. 

“Sorry. I’m basically blind, so I don’t quite notice when I’m rudely staring.” Bert bowed his head and held out his hand towards Jean. Jean smiled and grasped it firmly.

“No worries. My name is Jean.” Jean introduced himself. He must have just imagined Bert’s heavy stare as trying to look through him. The other man smiled.

“Nice to meet you, Jean. I’m Bertolt.” The man took back his hand, allowing the other man to take Jean’s hand in a strong grip.

“The name’s Reiner.” He said with a toothy smile. The petite woman simply waved at Jean, not moving from her spot near Mikasa. “Annie.” 

Jean waved back, smile attempting cocky but coming up a little overwhelmed. A lot of interaction with a lot of new people. Armin smiled, noticing Jean’s wavering energy, before placing his hand on Reiner’s arm. 

“While, it is nice chatting with you, Reiner. We have been shopping for a while now, so it might be best for us to head back home.” Armin said, moving to grab the bags that he had sat down to properly hug Reiner, but Reiner stopped him.

“What? No, at least have a late lunch with us. I still haven’t heard about how your apprenticeship is going. Besides, I want to get to know Jean a little better.” Reiner insisted, picking up Armin’s groceries in his right arm before relinking his left arm with Bertolt’s. 

Armin looked over to Jean, seeming to let Jean make the final call. Jean looked at the other two, who stared back before Mikasa nodded kindly and Eren shrugged before putting his hands into his pockets. Jean chewed on his lip, contemplating how much longer until he would need to recharge. He finally sighed before smiling. 

“Lunch couldn’t hurt. But I’ll need to put these away soon” Jean smiled, before shaking his groceries. Armin nodded, and then turned to Annie who spoke up.

“Let’s go to Thomas’ bistro. He will let us hold onto your groceries until we need to leave.” The group of seven agreed and moved along the street. The bistro was only a few blocks away from the fish market. It had your typical bistro design, with wooden accents and a cozy dining setting. They chose a table close to the entrance, and Reiner and Annie insisted on ordering for the table. 

“Jean, you are going to love the pork tenderloin here. Trust me.” Reiner grinned, before following Annie to talk to Thomas. That left Bertolt sitting by Jean with Armin, Mikasa, and Eren sitting across from them. Jean watched Bertolt wring his hands together before he finally reached for Jean’s arm. 

“Jean, I am again sorry for startling you. It is sometimes a shock to people about my sight.” Bertolt apologized, his face solemn. Jean just smiled nervously before patting Bert’s arm to try to show some comfort. This guy looked like he was about to sweat bullets if Jean didn’t forgive him for nothing. 

“It’s fine, really. I stare at people all the time so no worries.” Wait.. did Jean just admit to staring at people. Oh no. Jean flinched, as his words sunk in. ” I mean…. Um. Yea, it’s fine.” Just be quiet, Jean.

The four people at the table laughed softly at Jean, although Jean could tell this time that they weren’t being mean about it. Bert just patted his arm again. 

“That’s good to hear. I don’t want you to feel like you have to be careful around me.” Bert assured Jean, as the others nodded. Jean just smiled again, before a thought came to his head. 

“Well, I’m glad to hear that, and sorry if I come off rude, but shouldn’t you have like a service animal or tool to help you around?” Jean inquired, since he remembered the one boy from college always having a service dog with him, but Bert seemed fine on his own. Bert just grew his small smile on his face.

“It’s fine. My sight was damaged long ago, so I have grown used to it. I do have a cane at home, but I rarely use it since Reiner assists on staying by my side. I guess you could call him my seeing eye dog, although he is not one for petting.” Bert chuckled to himself, and Jean laughed a little too. 

Just like the devil, Reiner seemed to appear at the table to the sound of his name. 

“Talking about me, hun? Missed me that much while I was gone.” Reiner teased as he slid in beside Bert, pressing his shoulder into Bert’s side. Bert just smiled a little bigger, shoving Reiner’s shoulder with little force to actually move him.

“Like you are ever gone long enough to miss.” Bert retorted. Annie returned to the table to watch the two men tease each other and make a show for the table while the food was made. Jean did not notice the time past so fast, as the group laughed and talked throughout the meal. 

Reiner and Bert asked Jean different questions about his time in Rose Sina. Annie seemed intrigued about Andre, but did not show a lot of immediate interest when Jean said she could come visit if she wanted to see him. As they talked, Jean looked more about Armin’s apprenticeship with Marco.

“Yes, Marco mentors me on the ways of aromatherapy and therapeutic massage. I mainly focus on figuring out which herbal oils best relax the muscles for more successful recovery patterns.” Armin explained, showing off his knowledge and clear interest in the subject. Reiner smiled and winked at Armin. 

“And your research is really going well. That new rose hips mixture that you had Marco try on me really relaxed my muscles. I felt great afterwards.” Reiner said, smiling as he curled his arm. Bert nodded as Reiner spoke. 

“Yea, your lavender mixture has also helped me relax during sessions, which is hard to do.” 

Jean enjoyed hearing stories about what everyone did. They all seemed to know Marco well, since he appeared in a lot of their stories. Jean found himself learning more about Marco this way, how he knew Reiner, Bert, and Annie for many years, how Eren often has to convince him to not sleep on his massage table and to get to bed, and how Mikasa and Annie make him meals for when he has too many appointments lined up to make time for preparing lunch himself. Jean could not wait to see how Marco would react to hearing what Jean had learned. 

After sharing stories, the two groups parted ways. Reiner shook Jean’s shoulders with another toothy grin aimed at the trio behind him. 

“Now, Jean. If you ever want a decent tour of Rose Sina, Bert and I will be happy to show you around. We are better company than Yeager’s crew, anyday.” Reiner laughed.   
“You wish, Braun!” Eren snorted, sticking his tongue out like an adult. Jean bit his lip to keep his laughter in. He could not wait to tell Marco about his day later. He could already see Marco’s excited smile about hearing that him and Eren actually got along for most of the day. 

Waving off the new possible friends, Jean thanked Armin and the others for showing him around. Armin just smiled, as Eren puffed up his chest. 

“I knew you would have a good time when you got to know us.” Eren gloated, earning a nudge from Armin. “I mean, I am really happy that you came with us. I.. hope that you hang out with us- with me- again.” Eren admitted. Jean smiled a little, noticing how Eren’s eyes refused to meet his when he was forced to admit his feelings. 

“I will think about it, but I should head back to Andre. Thanks again and see you all later.” Jean concluded, waving as the group said their goodbyes and went their separate ways. As he passed the bakery and Marco’s shop, Jean decided to see Marco at his shop tomorrow to tell him about his day. He was exhausted, but he did have a good time. Maybe Connie and Sasha were right about Jean just needing to put himself out there.


	5. Endive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean questions where he belongs in Rose Sina, dealing with feelings of acceptance and isolation from the people around him.

The crisp, morning air blew gently through the maroon streets of Rose Sina. It shook the ivy vines playfully and brought a smile on Jean’s face. He was beginning to enjoy his Auntie’s town, seeing the little things that she used to show him as a child when he visited. How you could tell a friendly shop by how they took care of the ivy and plants in front of their shop. The little variations of reddish brown bricks that Jean made a little game out of. Jean found himself now hoping to only walk on the more maroon colored ones.

It made the walk to Marco’s shop a little more relaxing. He had called early that morning to see if Marco would be open that day. Marco simply laughed through the phone and told Jean that he was welcome to come by. He did not have any clients until later that day.

So, as Jean walked through the growing familiar doorway, Marco was there to usher him in. For a second, Jean thought he saw Marco have a conflicted look on his face, but it was quickly covered with a smile.

“You know, you don’t always have to call first before coming to visit.” Marco almost teased, gesturing Jean to the back where he had some herbs laid out on the counter. Jean felt otherwise, since he preferred calling than waiting outside and wondering if he was really wanted. However, Jean pushed down his nerves and played cocky.

“Don’t act like you don’t love my phone voice.”

Marco chuckled softly and their conversation continued in this fashion. A part of Jean wanted to say that they were softly flirting with one another, but the other part was not so sure. This part kept asking Jean why Marco always seemed to catch himself from laughing too much and getting too close to Jean. He tried to push down that voice as well. 

He helped Marco with a few herbal mixtures, trying to show off his know how to the freckled expert. He had been reading more of his Auntie’s Journals and wanted to test out a few herb mixtures. Especially since his latest scrub had caused Andre to have a sneezing fit. 

Marco listened to every word, before noting that Jean probably used too much cumin, much like another amber eyed herbalist he knew. Marco showed Jean a few pointers and some new herbs to try using. As he walked around the shop, Marco paused at some of the ingredients in ruby colored pots, before shaking his head and moving away.  
Jean felt like they could have talked the day away, but Marco stopped the conversation for them. He needed to prepare the room for his next clients and it was more of a private job. 

Jean was sad to leave, but nodded as Marco handed him the scrubs they made and headed on his way. 

As he walked silently back to his house, Jean felt his phone vibrate in his jacket pocket. Jostling the glass jars to one arm, he whipped out his phone to see an unfamiliar number. It was Reiner, claiming he got his number from Armin and wanted to make good on his promise to take him out. Jean tapped his fingers against the phone, wondering if he wanted to stay out of the cottage some more. If he stayed active, his mind wouldn’t have the time to wonder what Marco thought of him after shooing him out of his shop, so he quickly agreed and ran to the cottage to drop off the jars before heading back out.

Jean found himself back near the waterfront, wandering through the vibrant park before him. The park had numerous different species that gave it a sense of life. Across the array of flowers was Reiner waving at him, Bert on one arm and a dog in another. Jean learned that the dog was named Marcel- a fluffy light brown golden retriever mix, and belonged to Reiner’s and Bertolt’s friend. Even off of his leash, he stayed calmly beside Bert and Reiner, although he did let Jean toss him the Frisbee that Reiner brought a few times.

Reiner and Bert laughed as they heard Marcel’s happy barks along with Jean’s laughter, making Jean pause. He got carried away with playing with Marcel. He reminded Jean of playing with Connie’s old Boston terrier. Bert just shook his head and hands.

“Don’t mind us, Jean. Marcel is just excited about having a super active partner with him.” Jean looked down at Marcel, who is trying to sneak away with the Frisbee at Jean’s feet.

“You mean he doesn’t always play like this?”

Reiner shook his head. “Nah, His Owner usually sticks with her goddess partner most days, so we do them a favor and takes Marcel for walks. He will deal with us for a little while, before he decides that his break’s over.” 

“Break?” Jean questioned.

Bert spoke up this time, “Marcel’s a service dog. He helps our friend grab things and keeps her calm. But she will be fine without him for a little while.”

Jean made a sound in agreement, reaching down to grab and throw the Frisbee again. There were so many things that he still didn’t know about his new friends in Rose Sina.

Sure enough, after a few more Frisbee throws. Marcel was pacing and trying to corral the trio out of the park. Reiner and Bert finally waved Jean goodbye and headed on their way, leaving Jean to wander his way back home. As he ventured back into the ivy sheltered roads that were becoming more familiar to him, Jean felt himself growing more welcomed in Rose Sina.  
\---  
As the days rolled by, however, the feeling grew from welcoming to worrying. Jean tried to focus on scrubbing his sauce soaked pan clean, but this thought kept jumping to the front of his mind. His new friends always seemed happy to see him, but then never really let him stay around for long.

Like with Reiner and Bertoldt, his interactions with the two are often short, when they were alone or even with Annie. They would laugh and talk with him. Tell him how Marcel is missing his frisbee buddy. Annie would ask about Andre. But it never lasted. They always said have to be somewhere, like Marco’s shop for appointments. Jean often felt a little dejected when they would almost push jean off to his house when they had an appointment. They just said that they really needed to get there on time and then Annie was leading him to the cottage door. He never got a lot more than that and felt like they were hiding a whole different side from him.

Even during the times when he walked with them to the shop, Marco only gave him a quick hello and a smile, before he let Reiner and the others inside and shut the door. He never slammed it, but he might as well have to Jean.  
Besides that group, Eren’s trio made a few trips to jean’s cottage.

Eren was the most frequent visitor. He seemed to stop between pickups for Marco, with dirt on his clothes and crate leaned up on his hips. He made idle chit chat with Jean, asking how he was feeling that day and if Andre was doing alright. He always seemed like he wanted to say more, but he always paused before walking away. Although not without a deep stare at Jean, like he was trying to make a decision about him.

Armin talked about his different interests in reading on strategy and asked Jean about his herbology readings. Jean enjoyed talking about how his conservatory is improving through following some of his Auntie’s little tricks. Armin would nod and offer his own thoughts before being on his way.

Mikasa visited infrequently, often only on the days that Eren didn’t. She would talk a little, pet Andre and check his health (Jean noticed that Mikasa and Annie often asked the same questions when it came to Andre), and once commented on her lookalike charcoal portrait. Jean wanted the floor to swallow him, but Mikasa ensured that she thought it was good for a first portrait (Although Jean was sure he heard a soft laugh at the sight of his red ears from embarrassment.)

It just felt strange to Jean, tossing the pan down into the water to soak finally. All of his new .. not friends but acquaintances… seemed to consistently flicker between liking his presence and them pushing him away. It was often a toss-up when he would call if they would pick up or not, making his anxiety of calling people only grow stronger. (Even his calls to home were becoming harder to achieve.) He would try to ignore the thoughts of them being nice just because of his Auntie by working in the conservatory and talking it out with Andre, but not even Andre’s snorts of wisdom could fully convince him. 

After two weeks of fighting feelings and anxieties, Jean decided that he had to just grab his insecurities by the throat and just talk to one of them about it. He needed closure. Grabbing a jacket, Jean stormed out of the cottage and headed towards Macro’s shop. He had been the first one to welcome him to Rose Sina, so he would be the most welcoming to hear what jean had to say, right?

He saw the metal sign swing in the wind. He took in a deep breath, putting more power in his steps. But a quick burst of cold air made him temporarily stop his stride. Pulling at his collar to block the chill, Jean furrowed his eyebrows before looking at where he froze. He was right by the window to Marco’s shop and noticed Marco inside talking to someone.

He did not seem too pleased, his shoulders tense and a frustrated expression on his face. Jean thought about going inside to see what was going on, but he seemed to be frozen on the spot. Especially when he saw Eren walk into view of the window, his face also twisted in anger. He was less reserved than Marco, his arms shaking as he constantly grabbed his head.

Jean could not hear what they were saying, but he could see that this argument did not seem to be fresh. His fingers picked at his collar, as he watched their expressions change. Marco tried to control his words, Jean noticing the twitches of Marco’s jaw as he spoke. He felt his lungs feel constricted, as he watched Marco’s hands strain. It looked like he was going to break the counter with the amount of pressure on it.

While Marco braced himself at the counter, Eren was pacing around the shop. His eyes never left Marco, but Jean could see the various expressions beneath the blatant anger. Anxiety. Confusion. Exhaustion. Sadness. Jean was feeling them himself lately. Eren kept clutching his chest, grabbing the little key and ribbon around it. When he did, Jean noticed how Marco would try to avert his eyes. Stop the argument but it never worked. They were growing from arguing to full on shouting at each other. Eren was getting closer to Marco, as their arguments grew. Marco was trying to avoid his gaze at this point, but Eren would not let him. 

Jean could fill that his breaths were growing quicker, that his fingers had left his collar and dug into the neck, creating scratches that were beginning to sting. However, all of his focus was on the two before him. Their shouting was silent to him, but passionate, like something that was known but never said was suddenly surging forth. 

The surge came with Marco slamming his fist against the counter, eyes finally locking with Eren’s, and eren fisting his hands into Marco’s shirt. And then Eren was kissing Marco with the same power he had as he yelled, still shaking but pushing forward. Jean’s heart clenched, as he watched marco tentatively lift his quivering hand before gripping the back of eren’s neck. His scars on his hand seemed to lace around Eren’s perfectly. He held onto Eren like he was the only thing that mattered in this world. Jean was frozen outside the display window. He couldn’t pierce his gaze away, but he couldn’t look any more. He felt like he was doused with ice water. His heart was beating so loudly and felt so tight. Why did this hurt so much? Jean finally ran back to the cottage, feeling the cold wrap around him like a vice as the ivy shivered around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the delayed chapter to this story. We are finally getting into the darker tones of Jean's journey in Rose Sina. Next chapter will have warnings of possession and self-harm, so prepare yourself. 
> 
> I am planning to make a sub story line, with Marco's and even Eren's POV to the events occurring and what happened before Jean came to Rose Sina. Thank you all for the comments and kudos.


	6. Fumitory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has possession and self-harm, so be warned before you begin.

Slamming the door behind him, Jean pressed his back into it.  The cold chill was surrounding him and closing in on his chest. He slowly slid down to the floor and wrapped his arms around his knees, trying to get some warmth back.  Why did everything hurt? Should he call someone?

_ But who would want to hear his problems? _

Jean shivered as a soft raspy voice seemed to whisper to him.  What did it mean?  Someone would want to help him. 

_Who? Everyone you know is avoiding you.  Bertolt and Reiner always push you to go home.  Connie and Sasha only seem to call you when it’s convenient. Your own parents have been calling you less and less._

With each whisper, the chill grew stronger around Jean.  The cold air was freezing his lungs, each breath growing more painful.  But that can’t be true.

_Oh, but you know it is.  Even Marco and Eren are doing fine without you._

Jean covered his ears, trying to block out the voice.  He felt like an icy hand was squeezing his heart and he didn’t know what to do.  Why did seeing Marco and Eren together bother him so much?  What did they mean to him?

Jean’s lungs struggled as his breaths started to waver.  The chill travelled around him, growing stronger as the voice grew as well.  The whisper seemed to flow right into his ears, even with his head tucked between his hands and knees. 

_Just accept it, Jean. Give up._

Jean slowly lifted his head.  The chill around him had finally settled deep in his chest.  He felt numb, like he had been out in a frigid storm.  The whispering voice made pleased encouragements as Jean began to stand up.  He walked away from the door to the kitchen, staring dimly around.   _Look over there.  We can use that._

Jean padded over to the counter, reaching for the knife box.  Jean watched dully as he pulled out one of the larger knives.  He twisted it in his hands, before hearing a sharp hiss from behind.  His head snapped to see Andre glaring at him, hackles raised and fangs bared.  He looked ready to attack Jean, but Jean was indifferent. 

He saw more than felt his hand tighten around the knife, numbly walking towards Andre.  Andre kept growling, but he slowly moved backwards into a doorway.  Jean followed, his shoulder slamming into the frame, but the whispering chill pushed him forward. 

Andre pounced on top of the shelves, weaving through the pots before knocking over a pot towards Jean’s cumbering frame.

The sharp scent of fumitory snapped Jean out of his numbed state to notice how scared Andre looked, like he was not seeing Jean but a total stranger.  Jean looked in the window to the alley way and froze. 

His eyes were dark and furrowed as they glared back at him.  Jean backed up against a shelf, looking terrified at the knife in his hands.  He forced his hand to release it from his tight grip, thinking he heard the metal clank over the roaring scream of the once whispering voice. 

Jean felt the chill resurface and whip around him, but he forced his way to the door, ripping it open to see the wind whip around the ivy walls outside. 

“Andre, OUT!”  His throat was raw as he yelled at Andre.  The old cat whipped outside, turning around, he yowled at Jean.  Jean just looked away, slammed the door shut and locked it tight.  He didn’t know what was going on, but Andre was safe from it now. 

Jean wrenched himself out of the conservatory, the cold wind whipping around him and pushing him against counters.  It felt like Jean was wrestling with someone, but he couldn’t see anything.  The voice was not talking to him, only drowning out his hearing with the sounds of hissing and despair. 

The cold chill was bringing back the numbing sensation in his chest.  Jean could feel it twist around his back and creep in.  Jean pushed his whole weight onto the kitchen counter, trying to find the strength to run upstairs. His hands shook against the counter, fingertips turning pink like he shoved them in the snow.

Something was wrong.  He needed to see what. 

Pushing himself off the counter, Jean threw himself to the stairs and ran up, trying to ignore how the cold wind seemed to only grow stronger.  By the time he wrenched open the bedroom door, his whole body was practically that same numbness.  None of his actions brought any warmth back to him. 

He could feel himself drift away as he stared at the armoire mirror.  The Jean in the mirror looked even more unfamiliar than before.  His eyes were cold and empty as they glared back at him with a cruel smirk.  When he opens his mouth, the raspy voice flows out, stronger. 

_Try to beat me, Jean, but what’s the use?_

“I want to live.” Jean tried to say, but it came out in a whisper.  The mirror Jean just gave him a twisted version of Jean’s own cocky grin.

_Why? Who would miss you if you managed to beat me?_ The cold settled a little deeper.  Jean tried to rip his eyes away from the cold empty ones before him but couldn’t find the strength.

“…Someone must..”

_WHO? Your parents let you leave without so much as a fight to come with you, the FEW friends you have at home are more worried about what you send them than your well-being? And your little crushes? Well, you saw how much they really need you in their lives._

Jean flinched at his accusations.  He wanted to cover his ears, but his whole body felt heavy.  His arms were numb and refused to move for him. The only thing he could do was watch and listen to the Jean in the mirror.

The mirror Jean laughed, clearly enjoying Jean’s struggle.

_Face it, the only person that cared about you is gone._  His reflection lifted up a knife, showing it to Jean. 

_What’s stopping you from seeing her again?_

Jean felt cold tears prick at his eyes.  Maybe they were right.  He looked at the knife that mirrored the one in his own hand. (He thought that he dropped that before?)

Finally looking away, Jean’s eyes settled on his Auntie’s letter.  It was still open on the armoire.

“You are so special, Jeannie boy. Never forget that.”  Was Auntie Amelia really wrong? 

What could Jean do without her to help him through it?

Gripping the knife with his icy fingers, Jean stared back at the mirror.  The Jean within it was pressing the blade to his neck and wearing a terrifying grin.  Jean followed suit, the blade falling along his fresh scratch marks from earlier.  He wondered if it would hurt worse than how he felt then.

He was scared, but what could he do? No one would miss him.

Jean pressed harder and saw the first line of blood when he heard it.  A shout and muddled thud occur from downstairs. 

Despite the screaming coming from the mirror and the back of his head, Jean managed to rip himself away from the armoire. As he stumbled downstairs, the thuds and shouts grew louder and more frequent.

Slamming into the living room archway, Jean stared at the cottage door and how it was bending with each thud.

Finally, the door gave way and Eren bolted through the door, panic-stricken and wet from the rain falling outside.  His whole chest was heaving breaths in after forcing himself through.

Jean froze, and Eren froze too.  His frantic eyes skimmed over Jean, before resting on Jean’s neck. 

He paused and raised his arms to ease Jean down.  “It’s okay, Jean.  Relax.”

Jean just stared, befuddled, until he realized that he was still holding the knife in his raised hand.  His body was slowly getting the feeling back to it, but Jean could feel the cold deep down. He looked at the knife, and trembled against the doorframe.

“Why should I?  I feel so..” cold, alone.  Jean said, as he heard both the raspy voice and his own weak one speak.  He kept looking at the knife, not wanting to look at Eren.  He didn’t see the hurt expression cross his eyes, like he had seen this all before.  He didn’t see Eren slowly lower his arms and softly walk over to him.   He barely even registered Eren softly taking his arm and reaching for the knife. 

“It’s going to be okay, Jean.  You are not alone,”  Eren whispered to Jean.  Jean shivered.  It felt like warm waves were emanating from Eren and trying to soothe out the frigid air around them.  It made Jean feel something, as did it to something inside of him.  Jean spoke again, the raspy voice still alongside his own. 

“I need this.  Why won’t you let me go?”  The voice sounded scared, like it knew it couldn’t intimidate Eren like it could Jean.  More heat rushed over Jean’s body, as Eren twisted his downcast face to lock eyes with him.

“Because you are important to us, Jean.” 

With that, Jean simply saw darkness, as he passed out.  However, the darkness was warm and soothing, telling him that he was finally safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so begins Jean's story into the deeper parts of Rose Sina. Will he be able to handle it or will he be shut out again?


	7. Morning glory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you @arioseDreamer and @veituriel for helping me by beta-ing the past chapters.

 

 

Jean woke up to the sharp smell of garlic and other spices tickling along his senses. His limbs felt heavy in that sated sleepy sense.  He felt very warm and safe under the fluffy white duvet.  Twisting his head, he heard soft chimes and wind blow through the unfamiliar but calming room.

 

He tried to nudge himself up on his elbows but felt a familiar weight on his chest holding him down. 

 

Andre woke up, snorting happily at Jean before snuggling under his neck and falling back to sleep.  The soothing breaths in his ear calmed Jean down further.  If Andre liked this place, it must be safe.

 

Jean looked at the room he was in, blinking to clear away his blurry vision. The bed he was placed in was in the center of the room, facing the large balcony windows. The white blankets matched the white walls and curtains.  Most of the color in the room came from the pots of various plants hanging from the ceiling and lining the walls.  Devil’s ivy and Morning glory wrapped around the hanging fixtures,  almost hiding the softly smoking incenses spread between the plants.

“Oh, thank goodness, you’re awake.”  

 

Jean jerked his weary head over to the open doorway on the left of the white room, wincing at the sore feeling he received in return.  Why was he so exhausted? He watched curiously, as a goddess smiled and walked towards his bed.  As she grew closer, Jean noticed the scarring on her body.  Almost like Marco and Eren’s but also the opposite.  While their scars seemed to rivet like jagged ribbons and scarred nerves, hers flowed around her forehead and over her shoulders in intricate waves.  They did not look hurtful, they looked beautiful. 

She sat down in a woven chair beside him, before handing him a small cup of tea.

 

“My name is Historia. Drink this, please.”  

 

Jean accepted it with a shaky hand and adjusted Andre as he scooted up into an almost sitting position.  He just smiled as thanks, his throat feeling ragged.  What happened last night?

Historia simply smiled again, like he could sense his confusion.

 

“Finish the tea and then I’ll answer all of your questions, Jean.”

 

Jean’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he kept slowly drinking the tea.  It tasted like a herbal tea, but Jean could not pick out what kind exactly.  Its smooth flavors helped relieve the cool pain in his throat immensely.  Sneaking another look over the cup, he had the slight suspicion that this goddess- er Historia- was not one to mess with.  

She watched him drink with a calm expression, her hands neatly placed on her crossed knees.  For a moment, Jean thought he saw her eyes gleam as she looked over him, but maybe it was just a trick of the light.  Gulping down the final bit of tea, Jean rubbed his throat softly before attempting to speak.

 

“Where am I? What happened?”  Jean asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.  

 

“You are in my home.  It is a safe place where people go to re-charge and seek sanctuary.”  

 

Jean could believe that.  This room had the whole pure and calming vibe to it. 

 

“You were brought here last night.  Do you remember what happened last night, Jean?” Historia explained, looking deep into his eyes as she asked him that question.  Last night… what did happen?

 

“I… I remember wanting to ask Marco about why it felt like people were trying to keep me away from something. I was walking to his shop.”  But he doesn’t remember if he made it there or not.  “Then, I remember feeling cold… like I was trapped in my own personal wind storm… I was scared and alone … but I wasn’t?  Then… I don’t know. Next thing I knew I was here. I’m sorry.”  

 

Jean explained slowly, trying to rack his brain but feeling like a blizzard was fuzzing up his memory.  Historia smiled kindly, placing a hand over Jean’s, stopping him from scratching his arm.  He didn’t even notice he was doing it.

 

“It’s okay, Jean.  Not many people can remember what happens during what happened to you.  If we give it time and you let me guide you, you may remember the rest.  Now, I want you relax because what I am about to tell you will shock you, Jean.  Are you ready?”  

 

Jean swallowed nervously, watching her kind eyes turn serious as they almost stared through him. She was definitely not someone to mess around with, but Jean wanted clarity. He breathed  the warm and spiced air deeply in and out, before nodding solemnly.

 

Historia stared at him for a little longer, before nodding as well. Taking a deep breath, she gripped his hand once more.

 

“Last night, Jean, you were possessed by a corrupted spirit.”  Jean wanted to laugh - Possessed, like in one of those ghost horror films? - but the laugh was caught in his throat.  Historia’s eyes were deadly serious.  So instead of laughing, he meeked out a soft “what?”

 

“You remember feeling cold, like a frozen wind was whipping around you?” Jean nodded. 

 

“Do you remember any similar winds occurring before last night? Or the feeling that someone was there but you could not see them?” Jean nodded again, remembering his first venture out into Rose Sina and how he thought he felt a cold breath near him.  

“That was a sign that a corrupted spirit was nearby and that it anchored itself to you.”  

 

Jean flinched as she explained it to him.  Then, he focused on Andre’s soft breathing and the gentle pressure of Historia’s hand holding his own and relaxed again.  

 

“Why did it anchor itself to me?”  Historia’s eyes softened, seeming relieved that Jean was trying to stay calm.

 

“When a person dies and has regrets, it is said that their soul will live in this realm as a spirit.  However, if a person’s soul is taken before it is ready.  If it is ripped away from its body,  it becomes trapped in this realm and becomes a corrupted spirit.  A corrupted spirit is in pain and confused.  It does not know what regrets are tying it to this earth, it only knows that it wants its body back.  Any body back.” Historia paused, watching Jean’s face for any signs of him wanting her to stop.  Jean thought back for a moment, vaguely remembering a voice whispering to him.

 

“But that spirit wanted me to die.”  Historia shook her head.

 

“A spirit can not fully control a body with its soul intact. The host soul has to willingly leave, or be coerced out.  The spirit did not want to hurt you.  It was scared and lost.  It felt your spirit as a guardian and wanted your body’s protection.  It just wanted to be whole again, and it would have said anything to make that happen.” 

 

“A guardian?”  Jean whispered, his eyes filled with confusion but also a faint recognition resounded in the back of his mind.

 

“Yes.  A guardian is someone who uses their spirit energy to protect others.  Your Auntie Amelia was one.  I believe her leftover energy at the cottage is what first brought the spirit to seek you out.”

 

My Auntie was a Guardian?  Jean thought to himself.  He tried to remember anything spiritual about his Auntie.  But all he could remember was her kind eyes and how she always had a warm air around her.  It wrapped around her like the scent of lavender and cumin.  

 

Wait? Lavender?

 

“Could… could a spirit make plants  like lavender look wilted or frost-bitten almost?”  Jean inquired,  making sure to watch Historia’s face for any hesitation.  It showed none.

 

“Yes, while lavender has protective properties, it also has ones that attract wayward spirits.  Amelia used those traits to bring spirits in to aid them into a better existence.  Without the proper care and knowledge of them, it is likely that they were left to attract spirits but not soothe them.  I can give you the proper soothing mixture, if you would like.”

 

However, Jean was only half- listening to her explanation.  The other part of him was remembering when he told another person about the lavender and how they reacted.  How Marco looked like he knew exactly what was happening and simply gave him the mixture and sent him off.  

 

“They really were hiding things from me.” Jean muttered grimly.  Historia’s brows furrowed in confusion, as she leaned in.  “Hmm?”  Jean quickly put on a soft smile.

 

“Nothing.  Um… can I ask who brought me here? I mean, it had to be someone Andre tolerates, or he would have never been this calm right now.” Jean quipped, trying to act light hearted when his head and heart were aching with all of this information.  Historia stared at him again- she seemed to do that a lot, before smiling and turning her head.

 

“Of course.  It was Eren and Marco.  Ymir should be coming here with more tea and will tell me if they can come in to see you.”  Like Historia had sensed it, Jean could hear the clicking sounds of claws and the heavy steps of someone coming down the hall.  Then, the familiar head of Marcel came through the doorway, followed by a tall, tan woman with a tight grip on Marcel’s guiding harness.  The woman paused at the doorway.

 

“Hey, Historia.  Are you in here or is Ghost bait still asleep?”  Oh, Jean could already tell he was going to like this girl.  Historia just laughed softly. 

 

“Ymir, stop it.  If Jean wasn’t awake, I wouldn’t have started the tea.  Just come over here.” 

 

This Ymir scowled but it quickly turned into a grin.  With Marcel in front of her, Ymir soon stood beside the chair, letting Jean get a better look at her.  If he looked closely, he could see that her skin was covered in freckles, like another person he knows.  More than that though, her body was covered in scars, even more so than Reiner, Bertolt, and Annie.  They covered every exposed part of her skin, and wrapped around her pale eyes.  

 

Historia stood up and gently took the tea pot and set it down on Jean’s nightstand.  She then threaded her fingers in the woman’s thinner and longer ones,  causing her to smile.

 

“Oh alright,  but the kid has got to get used to me, especially if he plans to be around us more. Did you ask him yet?”  Ymir stated, her eyes only on Historia as she spoke.  If the subject wasn’t about him, Jean would have felt like he was interrupting something.  Still, Jean blushed a little bit, looking away to usher Marcel over to pet him.  Marcel did not budge, however, waiting on his owner’s next move.  He was a good service dog, after all.  

Historia smiled at Ymir, before looking back at Jean.  “I was just about to.”  Jean stared at her,  intrigue plastered on his face. 

 

“Jean,  I know this is a lot to take in, but I want to give you a choice.  If you want to learn more about the world we are in, the world Amelia was in,  I can show you.  I can teach you about spirits and what you yourself can do.  But this is completely your choice.  You can refuse and go back to the cottage.  You can mourn Amelia like you planned and go back home to your old life.  I will let you talk to Marco and Eren about last night, if you wish and then you can tell me your answer. Do you understand, Jean?” 

 

Jean thought about this for a little while, before giving Historia a quick nod.  “I want to speak to them.”  

He watched as they walked out of the room silently, letting Jean be with his thoughts.  He relished that silence as he waited for Marco and Eren to come in.  He could not wait to see them again.  He couldn’t wait to watch them struggle to come up with an excuse as to why they shut him out.  Why they pretended to care about him but never let him know what was going on.  

 

Jean looked down at Andre, who had moved back to his lap and purred softly.  Then again, his Auntie was in this world, too.  What did she need to hide from Jean? Jean shook his head.  His Auntie loved him, and he always trusted her.  He wasn’t going to stop now.  

 

Hearing footsteps nearing the doorway, Jean nonchalantly filled his tea cup, trying to look like the picture of indifference.  

 

However, Jean’s mask was thrown askew as Marco and Eren came through the door.  They looked awful.  Eren had intense bags under his eyes, and his shoulders were limp like he over exerted himself.  Marco’s eyes were looking everywhere but Jean.  His face was red and puffy around the eyes- did Marco cry before he came in here?

 

Marco sat silently down in the chair, staring hard at the floor.  Eren stood behind him, gripping the chair back harshly.  Jean sipped his tea, trying to push down his worry for them.  He still wanted answers.

 

Jean stared at them, as they tried to work their mouths. He decided he wanted to make the first move.

 

“So, I was possessed.”  Jean stated, watching them flinch at his bluntness.  He was not going to be pushed around anymore.  His resolve faltered when he heard Marco’s wavered breaths as the words spilled out from his mouth.

 

“Jean. I am so sorry.  I should have made sure your lavender was properly maintained.  I should have checked to see if you needed a refill on the cumin mixture to calm down the lure properties.  I should have noticed that a spirit was lurking around the cottage.  What kind of student am I? Amelia would be ashamed.”  Jean barely caught the last part, but his heart sank when he heard it.  It sank even lower when he saw Eren place his hands of Marco’s fallen shoulders.

 

“We all should have noticed something.” Eren interjected, looking at Marco with a depressed understanding.  “What matters is that we were able to help him in time.” 

 

In time? How long was Jean possessed?  Jean wondered to himself, perplexed before finding the right question.

 

“How did you guys help me exactly?  My mind is still foggy from last night.”  Jean inquired, watching them share an unknown look before finally looking at him head on.  Eren looked surprised for a split second, biting his lip like he wanted to say something but stopped himself.  Luckily, Marco was the first to speak about that night.

 

“Eren was in my shop last night.  We were discussing… something important, and then Andre appeared screeching at the doorway.  He was infuriated, so I knew something was terribly off.  I had Eren run over first, while I grabbed some supplies.”  Marco explained, wringing his hands together worryingly as he spoke.  Eren piped in, rubbing Marco’s shoulders soothingly.

 

“When I got to your cottage, I had to break down the door to get in.  The spirit… had pretty much taken over you at that point.  But… somehow I was able to soothe your mind back in control long enough to lull you into a relaxed state and take you back to Marco’s.  You are a lot heavier than you look, Kirstein.”  Eren tried to make light of the situation, but Jean could see the prevailing exhaustion from the night in his features.  

 

Marco spoke up again,  looking at Jean but his mind seemed elsewhere.  “By the time Eren got you back to my shop,  the spirit was barely hanging on.  I was able to release you from it, but, Jean, you must understand how sorry I am for not seeing the signs before.  I thought that keeping you away from this realm would protect you, but now  realize that it is what placed you in the most harm.  I was wrong.” 

 

Jean’s eyes softened as he looked at the two, but not by the words.  He saw how Eren’s eyes seemed to widen at Marco’s apology and then fill with an emotion that Jean didn’t have the right to know yet.  He saw how much that apology must have actually meant, even if he didn’t understand.  

 

Jean wanted to hate them.  Jean wanted to hate them for hiding things from him and pushing him aside as simply his Auntie’s naive nephew.  But he could feel his anger chipping away, because dammit they did look cute apologizing.

 

(Stop it Jean, there is no need for getting crushes on people that literally live on a different realm than you. Jean chastised himself.)

 

So Jean chose to answer them by not saying anything at all.  He carded his hand through Andre’s fur, not quite looking at them before nodding his head.  The two seemed to accept the silent answer, Marco gripping his knees before standing and placing a hand on Eren’s chest when it looked like he was going to say something against the silent treatment.  

 

“We’ll let you rest, Jean.  Just know that we…I… did want what was best for you.  The realm that we are entangled in is not one that you want to be a part of. You may not agree with me, but you should go home.  Go back to Trost, where it’s safe.”  Marco finished solemnly,  looking more tired after saying that than when he entered the room.  Jean’s eyes flickered between the two, gauging their emotions.  Eren stared at Marco, like he was trying to figure him out, before his chest heaved and he, too, showed the true exhaustion that they had been holding back.  Jean’s heart clenched again, but he tried to ignore it.  There were more important things to think about.

 

“I’ll think about it… could you find Historia for me?” Jean whispered, watching as a small smile that did reach his eyes formed on Marco’s lips.  He nodded wearily before letting Eren take him out of the room. Before they left the room, however, Eren said one final thing with a soft smile.

 

“We really are glad that you’re alright, Jean.”

 

Jean waited until he couldn’t hear their footsteps echoing back, before slouching back against his pillow and releasing the breath that he didn’t even realize he was holding.  Jean pressed his free hand against his face, trying to force down the slight blush that came with all of these conflicting and confusing feelings.  

 

They pushed him away… because they wanted to protect him?  They want him to leave... but are glad that he is okay?  Jean didn’t know what to think of the people of Rose Sina.  Maybe going back to Trost isn’t a bad idea.  At least the people there spoke their fucking mind.

 

Reaching for the teapot, hoping that some more tea would help calm him into making a proper decision, Jean noticed that his phone was set right beside the pot.  He booted it up, pouring himself a cup as the little wake up ring rang out.  And then he was assaulted with a barricade of vibrations, signaling that he had a shit- ton of messages.   

 

The majority of them were from his mom and dad, telling him that a man had called them saying that Jean had gotten hurt, but was alright.  They said that he was apparently an old friend of his Aunt’s, so Jean concluded that it must have been Marco.  His mom told him to call her as soon as he was done resting, so that she could hear from him what had happened. Which meant Jean was going to have to figure out how to either lie his ass off -hard to do since his mom was a walking lie detector- or explain that he was simply possessed by a misplaced ghost who thought that his body was the roomy new condo that it had been looking for.  Piece of cake.

 

The rest were split between Connie and Sasha, whose frantic messages seemed to range from why they knew that they should have pulled together tickets to Rose Sina out of their fry bits money to check on Jean’s fragile lean bean butt- to what had happened and if they needed to fight someone or even all of Rose Sina. 

 

Jean was so engrossed in reading all of the worried messages, that he didn’t notice Historia coming back into the room.  He jolted in his spot slightly, earning a huff from Andre and a smile from Historia.  

 

“Marco and Eren told me that you wanted to see me. I was just helping Ymir get settled in the other room to rest.”  Historia said, sitting back in the chair as if she had never left.  

 

“So, do you have your answer, Jean?”  

 

Jean did not respond for a while.  He looked down at his phone, at the messages from people that he knew deeply cared about him.  He thought about his life in Trost,  how he had his daily life of planting flowers with his mom, eating fries on the top of the Best Spuds truck, and telling his little work stories with his dad at night.  It was a happy life. It was a comfortable life. It was a safe life. 

 

But…

 

Jean thought back to the cottage and sitting with Andre on that old couch.  He thought back to the day when he explored Rose Sina with Armin, Mikasa, and Eren.  He thought back to how Marco’s eyes  shined as he told Jean all about the different plants that he had bought for his Auntie’s conservatory.  He thought about the feeling of uncertainty when he first entered Rose Sina, his Auntie’s home. It was not the comfortable life that he was used to.  It was something entirely new, and maybe that was why his Auntie had brought him here in the first place.

 

Maybe she was right about him, after all.

 

Jean finally spoke, with a determined look in his eyes towards the view of Rose Sina in the windows before him.

 

“I want to know more.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am planning to work the first chapter to Marco and Eren's side storyline, Beneath the Halfway Sign, before posting chapter 8. Thank you all for your support.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this short chapter. The first version was lost when my hard drive crashed, so this was the shaky remake. In the next chapter, Jean explores Rose Sina and what secrets it holds for him.


End file.
